Not Set In Stone
by Neurotica
Summary: Complete. AU. Set summer before OotP. There's a mysterious new member of the Order of the Phoenix, one that knows exactly how to deal with Sirius Black's moods, who seems well-liked by everybody. And whose story doesn't quite add up. No Slash
1. One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or the world of. They most unfortunately are the sole property of one J.K. Rowling.

* * *

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_One_

Remus Lupin stumbled across the threshold of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place exhaustedly. He'd been on assignment for Dumbledore for a fortnight now, hoping to recruit new members for the Order. His luck, unfortunately, had been non-existent. Of the dozen or so people he'd spoken with, people Dumbledore had dearly hoped would support the Order, even though the Ministry was doing everything to discredit the Headmaster and anybody willing to support him, only a few would actually hear him out. But even then, they were hesitant to commit to anything more than considering Dumbledore's message until more information came to light.

A familiar barking laugh floated up the kitchen staircase and met Remus' ears as he headed towards the staircase that led to his bedroom and what would undoubtedly be a very satisfying sleep. With a raised eyebrow, struggling to remember the last time he'd heard Sirius genuinely laugh, Remus detoured down the hallway. In the kitchen, the werewolf discovered his best friend sitting at the kitchen table with an unfamiliar wizard. Remus' eyebrow rose as he observed the man—he had shoulder-length blond hair, what looked to be a tall, thin frame, and a crooked nose, as though it had been broken a few too many times in his life. If Remus had to guess, the man looked like he might have been some relation of Dumbledore's.

Sirius' laughter tapered off and he glanced around the kitchen. "Moony!" he exclaimed loudly. "I was wondering if you'd ever find your way back here!"

The new wizard turned with a bright smile that seemed to churn something in Remus' memory. But the more he tried to bring it to the surface, the further away it moved. "I was bound to stumble across the place at some point," Remus said, trying to smile in welcome. He crossed the kitchen and offered his hand to the blond wizard as he stood. "Remus Lupin."

"Ken Revold," the wizard said, shaking Remus' hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine," Remus said politely, already starting to like the man.

"He's a new Order member, Moony," Sirius explained, pouring a glass of firewhiskey. Remus was about to say he didn't want a drink, then realized the drink wasn't for him as Sirius drained it in record time. "Dumbledore brought him by earlier; wanted him to get settled a bit before the meeting began."

"Ah," Remus said as he sat at the table. "Are you from Britain?"

Ken grinned a little. "Yes and no," he said wryly. "I was born here, but I've been gone for some time."

"Ken's just been telling me a bit about he and his friends used to get up to," Sirius said, his words slurring just a little. Remus vaguely wondered how long he'd been drinking. "Tell him the one about turning that one kid into a bat for Halloween..."

Ken chuckled a little. "I doubt he wants to hear about all that," he said dismissively. "Anyway, he looks kind of tired."

Remus nodded in agreement, punctuating this with a large yawn. "Well, I can't say I've slept much in the last few weeks. What time does the meeting start, Sirius?"

"About eight," Sirius muttered, concentrating hard on selecting a sandwich from the plate in the middle of the table.

"In that case, I think I'll take a nap," Remus said apologetically. "Perhaps we'll have time to catch up later, Ken."

Ken nodded. "Indeed, Remus. Enjoy your rest."

Remus' response lost to another yawn as he headed up the stairs, hardly seeing anything until he reached his bedroom where he collapsed on the bed and was asleep within seconds.

* * *

During the Order meeting, it was obvious Ken Revold was well-liked by everyone else just as he seemed to be with Sirius. As it turned out, the wizard's family was in the business of troll taming of all things. He immediately found a fan in Charlie Weasley as the two wizards compared notes of trolls and dragons, at least until Molly sent her second eldest son a glare to tell him to pay attention to what Dumbledore was saying. The Headmaster, however, seemed to be enjoying the conversation and seemed reluctant to turn to business. According to Kingsley, Fudge was making his way around the Ministry, carefully checking that nobody had contact with Albus Dumbledore; those few Order members who worked at the Ministry have been smart enough to take up the attitude that the Hogwarts Headmaster was indeed a senile old man who was an immense danger to the wizarding world. Dumbledore seemed greatly amused by this.

Following Remus' report on his failure in recruiting, Dumbledore stood. "I believe this brings us to our final order of business," he said, a strange twinkle in his eye as he surveyed the Order. "Harry Potter."

Movement out of the corner of his eye turned Remus' head and he found his eyebrow rising. He wasn't sure why the sight of Sirius Black and Ken Revold straightening up in their chairs with identical movements at the sound of Harry's name seemed to make him uneasy, but it did. Sirius' reaction was completely understandable: he'd been desperate for news of his godson for days now. But why did Ken seem so desperately interested? The more Remus watched the newest Order member, the more curious he became of the wizard's story. Unfortunately, he was unable to focus on this thought for long; Dumbledore was announcing the need to organize a guard duty on Privet Drive; the reasoning of this seemed to be caused by Harry's new fondness of wandering around his neighborhood in the evenings.

"What, he can't even take a walk anymore?" Sirius asked rather irritably. "Let the boy stretch his legs! At least one of us is getting some fresh air."

Remus sighed inwardly as Dumbledore answered, "Harry is quite free to go for a stroll. However, he's straying further away from the sanctuary of his mother's blood." The Headmaster's eyes seemed to dart towards Ken very briefly; the younger wizard was staring at the table. "My concern is that he will grow bolder in his walks and wander far enough that he is no longer protected by that ancient magic. Lord Voldemort will know all about this magic by now; it would be too much to wish for that he hasn't stationed a few of his followers just outside the boundary of Privet Drive with the hope that they can benefit from Harry's mistake."

"So why not just tell him exactly what the problem is?" Ken asked suddenly. Dumbledore's face was suddenly blank. "You tell him your concerns, make him understand the dangers, and he'll be more willing to follow your instructions."

Sirius made a noise of agreement, as did a few other Order members.

"We have discussed why this cannot happen," Dumbledore said quietly. Remus was unsure whether he was speaking to Sirius or Ken, or both. "The connection Harry holds with Lord Voldemort is still rather unknown, and I do not wish to put him into any more danger than he is already in by merely existing."

This seemed to temporarily silence Ken, though judging by the look on his face, Dumbledore was in for an earful once the meeting had ended. And indeed, when the meeting ended, Ken shot up from his chair and moved towards Dumbledore. Remus watched the exchange, straining his ears to hear what was said; but between the rest of the Order talking around him and what Remus assumed may have been the use of a _Muffliato _spell, he was unable to make out even one word of the discussion.

"Wotcher, Remus."

Remus jumped a little in his chair and turned to find Tonks, sporting purple spikes this evening, sitting in a chair recently abandoned by Arthur Weasley. "Ah, hello, Tonks," he said, forcing a smile. When he glanced back to the corner where Dumbledore and Ken had been speaking, the two wizards had moved on to other things already. Remus sighed a little and turned back to the young witch beside him. "What can I help you with?"

"You and I have guard duty tonight," he was informed brightly.

Remus looked at her blankly. "Er, we do?"

Tonks nodded. "Didn't you see the schedule?"

The wizard shook his head. "I've been gone for two weeks, remember?" He sighed; his hope had been to spend the evening with Sirius, try to raise his best friend's spirits, which haven't been very high since his return to his childhood home. "What time do we have to be there?"

"Midnight," Tonks replied. "We've got about an hour."

"In that case, I should probably make sure Sirius is occupied for the evening before leaving," Remus said, glancing around the kitchen in search of the other wizard. When his eyes landed on Sirius, his eyebrow rose again; far from being bitter over how Dumbledore was keeping Harry in the dark about his future or about his own orders to remain in the house at all times, Sirius had a grin on his face Remus hadn't seen for a very long time as he talked with Ken Revold. The two wizards seemed to be discussing something very amusing with Mundungus Fletcher.

"I think he's occupied," Tonks said with her own grin.

"Indeed," Remus said faintly, watching Ken tell a story using exaggerated waves of his arms. _Who does he remind me of...?_

"Does Sirius know him?" Tonks asked curiously. "They seem to get along better than Sirius does with most people."

Remus shook his head. "They only met today, as I understand it," he responded.

"Hmm..."

Remus glanced at the witch beside him; she was staring unabashedly at Ken. He cleared his throat to get her attention back. "We should probably head out." He immediately turned away from Sirius, and moments later, felt Tonks do the same. "I'll just go get Mad-Eye's Invisibility Cloak, shall I?" Without another word, Remus was up the staircase and searching for Mad-Eye, all the while trying to figure out what about this situation bothered him so.

* * *

Next morning, Remus didn't wake up until long after breakfast, but couldn't quite find the energy to feel bad about it. He and Tonks had spent six hours beneath an Invisibility Cloak outside the Department of Mysteries where the only interesting happening had been when they'd gotten up to stretch and Tonks had lost her balance, causing her to fall out of the cloak. Luckily nobody had been around to witness the mishap and Tonks had remained off her feet for the rest of the night.

Upon his arrival to the kitchen to see what Sirius had gotten up to the night before, Remus found the only person present was Ken Revold. During his time beneath the cloak in the Ministry, Remus had had plenty of time to think about the newest Order member and what it was about him that seemed so familiar. He hadn't been able to come up with anything concrete other than the fact that he seemed rather experienced in dealing with Sirius' bad moods. And the only conclusion he could draw from this was that Ken must have had a friend with Sirius' temperament at some point.

"Good morning," Remus said pleasantly to the other wizard as he started some tea.

Ken looked at him over his shoulder and smiled. "Morning, Remus," he said. "Have a good night?"

The werewolf made a noncommittal noise. "Uneventful," he reported. "Which I'm told is a good thing."

Ken chuckled.

"Have you seen Sirius this morning by chance?" Remus poured his tea and headed over to sit at the table across from the other wizard.

"He's upstairs with his hippogriff," Ken replied. "And not exactly in the best mood it seems." Remus raised a questioning eyebrow as he sipped his tea. "Dumbledore was here about an hour ago and rather firmly instructed Sirius not to step foot out of the house."

"Sirius has had those instructions since we got here..." Remus said dully.

Ken nodded. "Well, this was after Sirius was spotted by Mad-Eye Moody trying to sneak out in his Animagus form."

Remus sighed wearily. "You'd think someone in his situation would do everything possible to_ not_ get himself caught." His brow furrowed as he thought of something he probably should have thought about before beginning this discussion. "Er, you do know Sirius' situation, don't you?"

"Dumbledore briefed me," replied Ken in a wry tone. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about that..." The other wizard leaned a little across the table and dropped his voice. "What d'you reckon it'd take for the Ministry to believe he was innocent?"

A humorless snort escaped before Remus could stop himself. "At this point, nothing short of a miracle," he said grimly. "The only people aware of truth would never be believed or are long dead." He began counting his fingers. "Three teenagers, one of whom Fudge is trying to convince the world is absolutely mental and his two best friends; one werewolf, yours truly," he pointed at himself; there wasn't much point hiding the fact if Ken was going to be staying at Headquarters, and judging by the look on his face, Dumbledore had let those beans spill as well, "the escaped mad mass murderer himself; the betrayer; and those he betrayed." Remus felt a sad smile on his face.

Ken nodded slowly, thinking hard about something. "But you are trying, aren't you?" he asked quietly, not quite looking at Remus. "I mean, you're trying to find a way to clear his name..."

Remus' brow furrowed. "Well, yes, but as I said, unless Peter Pettigrew willingly walks into the Ministry and confesses all, there isn't much of a chance." Again, Ken nodded. Remus' brow furrowed a touch at the turn the conversation had taken. "Can I ask why you seem so concerned about Sirius' innocence?"

The other wizard gave a half-shrug. "He just seems like a nice bloke," he muttered unconvincingly. "Doesn't seem fair he's gotten such a raw deal." He hesitated a bit, staring into his tea. "And I had a friend like him once—one who drank a lot when he got really upset and depressed, or suffered a really bad disappointment. It didn't really end too well with him and I'd hate to see that happen to Sirius too."

Remus wasn't sure how to respond to that other than nod.

"Well, I should be getting on," Ken said, draining his own teacup. "Dumbledore's asked me to head over to Privet Drive to bring Arabella Figg up to speed on a few things." There was an excitement on the wizard's face that Remus didn't think was warranted, considering his task. "See you in a while."

Remus was barely able to wave before Ken had disappeared around the corner of the staircase. Shaking himself a little, trying to convince himself he was reading far too much into something that probably didn't exist, he made his own way up the stairs, determined to find Sirius and cheer him up some.

* * *

Harry Potter walked along the sidewalk of Privet Drive, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets, his head bowed. For weeks now, he'd been waiting for word from his friends about the state of the wizarding world—had Voldemort started attacking people yet? Had the Ministry changed its opinion of whether Dumbledore was mad? For now, though, it seemed everybody was quite content with leaving him in the dark. Even Ron and Hermione and Sirius didn't seem to think he needed to know what was happening anymore. ("I expect we'll be seeing you soon," "Just be patient; everything will work out," "Keep your head down and out of trouble.") Thinking over his godfather's most recent note, Harry found himself becoming rather bitter and resentful. The man who had been accused of murdering thirteen people, who'd spent twelve years in Azkaban, and who'd risked his capture more times than Harry wanted to count over the last year telling _him_ to keep his head down and out of trouble.

_Do they think I can't handle it?_ Harry asked himself bitterly, kicking a pebble out of his way. _I've got more right than any of them to know what's going on!_

Growling under his breath, Harry took a sharp left into a park where he immediately plopped into a swing, wrapping his arm around the chain. _I'm the one suffering from nightmares—they weren't there to see Cedric fall over dead... And yet I'm the only one who's out of the loop while everyone else is having a right good time wherever the hell they are._

Harry froze suddenly, feeling eyes upon him. He slowly turned and looked down towards Mrs. Figg's house across the street. Sitting on the porch, surrounded by cats, was a man Harry didn't recognize. Harry shifted a little under the stare, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. The man didn't turn away, though. In fact, it seemed to Harry that the only thing keeping him on the porch and away from Harry was Mrs. Figg who'd come out to find her guest staring at the park. The old woman slapped the man in the shoulder to stop his staring.

Harry averted his eyes briefly, uncertain why his heartbeat had sped up the way it had. When he turned back to Mrs. Figg's porch, both the batty woman and the man had disappeared. With a heavy sigh, Harry stood, hearing his cousin's loud voice not far from the park and decided it was probably time to head back home; the last thing he wanted to deal with was his aunt and uncle screaming at him for being later than their ickle Dudders.

As he left the park, Harry felt his eyes drift back to Mrs. Figg's house. He could just make out a face watching him through the curtains.

* * *

**AN: **So I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I am very much alive and have not fallen off the face of the planet. The bad news is that I've hit the most solid Writer's Block I can remember having with _Through Another's Eyes_. (Though I'm sure some of you might have figured that out by now...) However, inspiration helped along by one **whydoyouneedtoknow**has brought this little story to life. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. As always, please review. Thank you.


	2. Two

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Two_

When Remus wandered into the kitchen a few evenings later, it was to find Sirius pacing around angrily, muttering under his breath, a glass of firewhiskey sloshing in one hand. Just as Remus was starting to open his mouth to find out what was going on, a voice from the table spoke up.

"You might want to hold off on that for a bit..."

Remus looked over to find Ken sitting back in his chair, his arms crossed as his eyes continued to follow Sirius. "Why?"

"Because he's been doing this since I got here fifteen minutes ago and he's showing no signs of slowing down," Ken said, glancing at Remus over his shoulder with a half-grin. "And he's saying a few things I'm pretty sure he made up and I'm rather interested in seeing what else he comes up with."

Remus chuckled and took a seat. "I used to think he and our friend James sat around making up words that teachers wouldn't believe could possibly be curses." He shook his head fondly before rolling his eyes. "Then there were the jinxes they came up with... Dangerous as some of them may have been, they were absolutely genius."

A slow grin began to form on Ken's face as he stared in the fire with a faraway glance.

The werewolf chanced a glance at Sirius, who was still muttering, a furious look on his face. "We should probably stop him before Molly Weasley gets here; she wants to clean up a few of the rooms so her children can move in next week..."

"Any ideas?"

With a heavy, resigned sigh, Remus nodded. "Only one, but it's not pretty and there's a very good chance one or both of us will leave the kitchen with at least a mild injury."

The other wizard gave him a weary, but interested nod. Remus only grinned and raised his wand, pointing it at Sirius' legs, before reciting lazily, "_Petrificus._" The effect was immediate: Sirius, who was in mid-step at the end of the incantation, went flying face first into the stone floor, his glass of firewhiskey rolling away from under and stopping somewhere under the counter.

After sputtering words that would undoubtedly cause Molly Weasley to _Scourgify_ his mouth, Sirius turned his head and glared hard at Remus. "What the hell, Moony!"

Remus only smirked as he and Ken walked around the table to get a better look at the fallen wizard. "We didn't want you to scare the Weasley children away with the maddening pacing you were doing," Remus said casually, sitting in a chair in front of Sirius. "Want to tell us what caused this latest episode of rage?"

An ugly look on his face, Sirius looked away from his friend. Remus thought for a moment he wasn't going to answer, and when he did begin to answer, Remus almost wished he hadn't. "Bloody git," spat Sirius. "Who does he think he is, coming into _my_ home, telling _me_ how bleeding useful he's being! Then when I tell him to bugger off, he actually has the nerve to tell me he'd love to, that _he's_ got better things to do than housekeep!"

Sirius continued to glare at the world, Remus voided his face of all expression, and Ken was staring between the two friends in slight confusion. "Er," he said tentatively, "who is he..."

"Snape," Remus said shortly.

"Lift this damn jinx, Remus, I've got to go feed Buckbeak," Sirius said irritably.

All amusement long dissipated, Remus flicked his wand at Sirius' legs, releasing the wizard from the jinx. Without a word, Sirius pushed himself off the ground and headed up the stairs.

Remus sat back in his chair, uncertain what to do. Sirius' misery of being stuck in the one place he fought so hard to get away from as a teenager was easy enough to deal with—a few drinks and brooding broke him out of that type of bad mood and brought him back into as good a mood as he could possibly be in, considering his situation—but when Severus Snape, one of the few people besides Remus who knew how to push Sirius' buttons, was brought into the equation... Well, after twenty-five years, Remus still hadn't worked out how to fix that.

"So Snape," Ken ventured quietly. "Would that be Severus Snape?"

Remus nodded. "Met him, have you?"

"A while ago," was the reply. "When we were kids."

The werewolf raised an eyebrow more at the tone the other wizard used rather than the words—it was wistful, almost. "When you were kids," he repeated slowly.

"Well, back then, he was more or less all right," Ken said with another of his wry grins. "Little odd... Well, _very_ odd. But we got on somehow."

Something stirred in Remus' mind. It was a conversation he'd once had with Lily sometime during their sixth or seventh year at Hogwarts, and she'd been explaining how she'd begun her friendship with one Severus Snape. "Er, so you knew Snape _before _he went to Hogwarts?" Remus asked both curiously and reluctantly. "Did you know Lily Evans as well, then?"

A smile began to grow on the blond man's face, lighting up every inch of it. "Yes, I knew Lily," he said through his smile. "Practically hero-worshipped her and Severus before my family moved out of the country. For a while, I was really rather smitten with her." He rolled his blue eyes. "Sev hated it; he was always trying to get me in trouble so I couldn't come out and play with them. Lily just thought it was cute to have me trailing after them all the time. She was always too good for him, you know. Never wanted much to do with me other than when she and Severus needed help annoying her sister Petunia." Ken looked at Remus with a slightly pained expression. "Why do girls always go for the bad boys, anyway?"

Remus chuckled. "Couldn't tell you, mate," he replied. "Though if it were true that they always go for the bad boys, Lily would have ended up with Sirius rather than James. Much as James tried, he never really managed to match Sirius' reputation during school." He furrowed his brow. "Probably a good thing he didn't, actually..."

Ken's eyes darted briefly at the ceiling before looking back to Remus. "So what is it about Severus that seems to get under Sirius' skin?"

The other wizard snorted humorlessly. "It'd probably be easier to explain what _doesn't_ get under Sirius' skin. To say they never really got along would be like saying Lord Voldemort is going to invite Dumbledore to tea to negotiate his surrender." Ken chuckled. "Sirius just doesn't like feeling useless. He never did. And being stuck in this place with nothing to do but follow Dumbledore's orders and try not to kill his mother's house-elf is affecting him more than he's willing to admit. When Snape comes here and goads him and reminds him of what he's supposed to be doing... Well, as you saw, Sirius doesn't respond too well to that."

"Severus always did have a way of pushing exactly the wrong buttons of certain people..." Ken's brow furrowed for a few moments in thought. "Maybe we should come up with some way to raise Sirius' spirits."

Remus raised an eyebrow as he observed the wizard. "And what do you suppose we should do?"

Ken looked hesitant. "Well, I did have one idea," he said slowly. Remus looked on curiously. "I mean, I know Dumbledore doesn't want Sirius to leave the house, but what if it was carefully planned? I'm not too shabby with potions; I think I've got a bit of Polyjuice Potion from my last assignment... Sirius deserves some fun, don't you think?"

Instead of immediately shooting down the other wizard's suggestion and coming with five hundred reasons why it couldn't and shouldn't happen, Remus sat back in his chair and thought carefully. As he surveyed the grimy surroundings of Number Twelve's dark, dank kitchen and thought of the effect on Sirius' already off-balance mind, he remembered suddenly that in a few days' time Molly Weasley would be arriving with her husband and children. If ever the time presented itself to get Sirius out of the house and some fresh air, this was it. The side of Remus' mind that told him how bad an idea this was—the prefect side—was rather quickly silenced and banished by the Marauder side, and Remus found himself grinning. "What do you have in mind?"

* * *

In the middle of the night, sometime near two in the morning, Sirius Black's bedroom door opened and in slipped a dark figure that winced at the creaking door. The figure walked around the wizard's bed and managed to stifle a laugh at the familiarity of Sirius' sleeping position: on his stomach, head turned to the right, mouth open, allowing a steady stream of drool to escape. One arm was bent backwards and resting on the wizard's back while the other hung off the side of the bed along with a leg. The figure shook his head fondly and looked up at the doorway as a second figure appeared.

"He awake yet?" the second asked in a whisper.

"No," the first replied. "Any particular way you want to do it?"

"I've always preferred the water bucket method, myself."

The first chuckled. "Good," he agreed, "but there're much more amusing ways to do it."

The second looked on amusedly as the first raised his wand, pointing it at Sirius' sleeping form. A moment's thought and a whispered incantation filled the room with light and sound as fireworks went off all around them. Between the whirs and bangs and squeals, the two men could rather clearly hear Sirius' strangled, startled cries as he woke. By the time the charm had ended, Sirius was lying on the floor wrapped in a tangle of blankets and sheets, breathless as he stared around with wide eyes.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" he screamed at the two wizards who were more concerned with laughing than listening to him.

The second figure got his amusement under control first and, still grinning, met Sirius' eyes. "Get dressed," he said, tossing a shirt and jeans at him. "We're going out..."

* * *

Less than an hour later, three wizards were soaring through the starry night on broomsticks. Remus hung back just a little while he watched Sirius and Ken show off, diving through trees and looping the loop, each challenging the other to do tricks. He had to admit, Ken was more than a decent flyer; he almost reminded Remus of Harry's flying style—how the boy seemed so at ease in the air, pulling off seemingly impossible moves like he was born to fly. Remus smiled reminiscently as Sirius and Ken performed a move Sirius had come up with James Potter—one that had won Gryffindor the Quidditch House Cup during their seventh year.

It was good to see Sirius happy for a change, Remus mused as his friend let out a barking laugh. Ken had been right in suggesting this; Sirius needed to feel normal rather than a prisoner; he'd done plenty of that over the last twelve years. Remus wasn't naïve enough to believe this could happen all the time—the risk was far too high—but for tonight, it was all right.

* * *

A few hours into their flying time, the wizards landed in a clearing and set their brooms aside. Ken withdrew a bottle of wine from his robes and conjured a few glasses for them. Halfway through the bottle, Remus lay back on the grass and fell asleep almost immediately. Sirius chuckled, recalling the full moon wasn't far away now and his old friend would be losing energy much more quickly than normal.

"Good man, Remus," Sirius announced, refilling his glass. "Not sure what I did to deserve him, though."

Ken raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not?" he asked.

"Nope," Sirius replied. "After all the rubbish I put him through during our friendship, it's a wonder he hasn't written me off completely." He shook his head despairingly. "Haven't exactly been a good friend to him, have I? He nearly killed Snivellus because of me; I accused him of being a spy for Voldemort and treated him horribly for the last year before I got arrested... He then spent twelve years thinking _I'd_ betrayed them—Lily and James, I mean—and killed Peter and those Muggles... I really am a horrible friend..."

Ken opened his mouth, probably to argue, but Sirius waved him off. "No use arguing, mate," Sirius told him. "It's all done, there's no taking it back."

"Would you if you could?"

"In a bloody heartbeat," Sirius said at once. "And not just what happened between Remus and me. I've spent the last fourteen years knowing with absolute certainty that my best friend hates me. Not Remus," he waved a hand dismissively as Ken opened his mouth again. "James."

"You think James hates you?"

Sirius smiled sadly. "Think about it. Instead of taking his life and the lives of his family in my own hands and being their Secret-Keeper, I let myself be talked into switching with someone who avoided trouble at all costs and that person ended up being responsible for all this mess. I practically handed the best friend I ever had in my life over to Lord bloody Voldemort. And because I did that, James died, Lily died, Harry's an orphan, Remus has been alone for all this time... Maybe I deserved Azkaban."

"You can't really believe that," Ken said imploringly. "You of all people didn't deserve Azkaban. All you were trying to do was keep your friends safe."

"Yeah, and a bloody good job I did doing it too," Sirius countered sarcastically. "A week was all it took before Voldemort blasted down their door!"

"And were you the one who told Voldemort were to find them?" Ken asked. "You didn't know who the spy was! None of you did! And as for James hating you, I really doubt he does." Sirius snorted derisively. "From what I've been able to tell, you would've done everything possible to keep your friends safe. You made mistakes; but I doubt that was limited to you. Did Remus see Peter had turned spy? Did Dumbledore? You're not the only one who acted before thinking! And you really need to stop blaming yourself for what happened."

Sirius huffed and turned away from the other wizard. He had no idea about any of this. He wasn't there to see his best friend's dead eyes staring at the sky or the one who'd come to the conclusion about how utterly wrong he'd been far too late to do anything about it. Sirius didn't want to believe James hated him for what happened, but what other option was there? James wasn't here to see his son grow up or to live the life he'd always dreamed of happening. And the only woman he'd ever loved, Lily... Sirius had set her up just as he'd set James up. And what had she done, other than mother a child Voldemort had felt threatened by?

Sirius snorted mentally as he'd recalled the thoughts he'd had after hearing of the prophecy between Harry and Voldemort: What's a one-year-old going to do to defeat the Dark Lord? Bite his finger when he was teething? Even fifteen years later, it seemed impossible that his godson could have some power that would one day defeat Voldemort.

"James doesn't hate you."

Sirius looked up suddenly and found Ken staring at the trees. Had he imagined the other wizard speaking? "What makes you think that?" he asked.

Ken shrugged. "Just a thought," he said. "From what I've heard of him, he wouldn't. We should head back to Headquarters soon; wouldn't do for Mad-Eye or Dumbledore to show up and find us gone."

His brow furrowed deeply, Sirius watched as the other wizard stretched and stood, making his way over to wake Remus.

"_James doesn't hate you. James doesn't hate you." _ Ken's words played on endless loop inside Sirius' mind as they started back to Number Twelve. It was a nice thought and Sirius would have loved to believe it.

_Shame I know it's not true._

* * *

On the evening of the full moon, Sirius entered the library of Number Twelve to find Remus, as he'd expected, sitting in an armchair before the fire reading a book. Much as he hated to admit it aloud, especially to Remus, this was one of the few times he found himself of any use. He didn't want to voice this because he knew the toll the full moon took on his old friend—the exhaustion, the pain, the look that suggested every transformation he made was taking even more years off his life. Regardless of all this, however, Sirius couldn't help but think about the old days, the days of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, when three teenage boys set out to do everything they could to make certain their friend made it through the night.

Swallowing heavily, Sirius entered the room. "Evening, Moony," he said in as cheerful a tone as he could muster. "Feel all right?"

Remus smiled genuinely at him, if a little tiredly. "I'm good," he said hoarsely. "Everyone out of the house?"

Sirius nodded and flopped down on the sofa beside his friend's chair. "Molly and Ken were the last," he confirmed. "Molly was trying to convince him to stay at the Burrow for the night, promised all sorts of cakes, but he turned it down." His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked over at Remus. "Who in their right mind turns down Molly Weasley cake?"

Remus chuckled. "Well, Ken is a rather strange man, if I say so myself," he responded.

"Think so?"

"You don't?"

Shrugging, Sirius stared at the fire. "He seems nice enough," he finally said. Remus hummed an agreement before returning to his book. "Where do you think Dumbledore dug him up?"

"Same place Dumbledore dug up the rest of us: somewhere along the outer limits of normalcy while the rest of the world turned up their noses at us."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Cynical much, Moony?"

Again, Remus chuckled. "It's not cynicism if it's true, Padfoot," he replied dully, a thoughtful look on his face. "Does Ken seem a little... _strange_ to you?"

"I think you already implied every one of us is strange..."

"No, I meant more than the normal," Remus replied, waving off Sirius' words. "He just seems..." He struggled to find the words. "Different."

Sirius shrugged. "So what if he is. Nothing wrong with being different, is there?"

"No..."

Sirius watched his friend stare into the fire, an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you still miss them?" he eventually asked. Remus looked at him questioningly. "Lily and James... I mean, you've had all this time to get used to not having them around. Do you still miss them?"

A small, sad smile appeared on the other wizard's face. "Every day," he responded. "It's never gone away—dulled a little, maybe... It was really bad while I was at Hogwarts, if you can imagine that." He forced a chuckle. "It wasn't just seeing Harry every day, though that certainly had an effect; it was walking through the halls and remembering hundreds of little things I almost forgot we'd done—how we got so lost on our very first day that we didn't make it to Transfiguration until sometime _after_ lunch; how our first prank went so wrong that Peter was completely bald for a week and a half; wandering the grounds and castle at all hours of the day and night so we could get a decent layout for the map, then sleeping through every lesson and getting detention from every teacher..." Remus shook his head fondly. "You and James were such bad influences on me."

"Us?" said Sirius incredulously. "Who was the one who thought it'd be a right laugh if we could manage to charm that dragon skeleton in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to fly around the school on its own?"

A grin slowly spread across Remus' face that Sirius hadn't seen in a decade and a half. It took a lifetime of age off his old friend's face. "You have to admit it was worth the month's detention just to see McGonagall jumping on its back to stun it as it flew through the first corridor."

Sirius laughed. "Think she ever got rid of that scar on her arm where it bit her?"

"Doubt it," Remus said, chuckling. "Remember how James managed to get it to breathe fire? They had to close the greenhouses for three months to get them back to normal..."

"Brilliance," Sirius replied, nodding.

Again, they were sunken into silence where Sirius watched his friend's face slowly fade away into the mask he wore with the rest of the world. "The first six months were horrible," Remus said quietly and suddenly. Sirius raised a questioning eyebrow. "After that Halloween. I still consider it nothing short of a miracle that I even survived. Moony was more angry than he'd ever been, he didn't understand why, after so long of having company on full moon nights, he was alone again. There were mornings I wished he'd just kill me, if for no other reason than to get away from the physical pain he caused." Remus shook his head a little. "And on the non-lunar nights, I considered ending it myself."

Sirius' jaw dropped. "What?" he breathed.

Remus nodded, meeting his eyes. "I was miserable, Sirius," he said matter-of-factly. "What did I have left? My friends were dead or gone, I had no money, no real chance of getting decent employment... " He shrugged. "I thought myself a burden."

Sirius wasn't sure how to respond to that. He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm sorry you had to go through that and for how I treated you back then. I should have known you'd never join Voldemort."

"Stop," Remus said rather firmly. "We've discussed this before, Sirius, and I really don't think we need to bring it up again, especially not forty-five minutes before moonrise. I told you I forgave you for everything that happened, and I meant that. Besides, if you'll recall, I wasn't exactly convinced you were on our side back then either."

Watching his friend for a few moments, Sirius realized Remus wasn't going to allow him a pity party tonight. He sighed. "Have you taken your potion?" he eventually asked.

Remus nodded. "Yes." He glanced at his watch. "And we should start putting up the wards and charms... It won't be much longer now."

Silently, the two friends walked around the library, setting up protections against the escape of the werewolf and preventing any unwanted visitors entrance. By the time they'd finished, it was only fifteen minutes to moonrise and Remus was obviously feeling the effects; he was white as a sheet, sweating heavily, and panting, trying to catch his breath. When he fell into a crouch on the floor and began to tense as the transformation started, Sirius transformed and turned away, staring at a row of books, trying to block out his friend's screams of pain.

_There may not be much left I can do, but I can still do this._

_

* * *

_**AN:** I'm on an update kick, it seems. Hope everyone is enjoying the story thus far, and I wouldn't make up your minds about Ken too soon... Thanks to Anne for betaing. Please review.


	3. Three

**_Not Set In Stone_**

By Neurotica

_Three_

In the early afternoon of 2 August, Ken Revold Apparated into the backyard of Arabella Figg's home and looked around a few moments, spotting several of the woman's cats staring suspiciously at him through the windows. From the looks of it, Arabella wasn't currently at home, which was fine with him; he didn't feel like spending the next hour hearing her complain about Mundungus Fletcher's last minute switch on tonight's duty over Privet Drive. The wizard had arrived at Order headquarters about an hour ago in quite a flap over some "business opportunity that he would be stupid to pass up." Only Ken and Sirius had been present at the time, and though Sirius was quite willing to leave the cover of his home to stand guard over his godson, Ken had managed to convince him it would be in everyone's best interest if Ken was the one to go.

_Can't really blame him for being so impatient,_ thought Ken as he wrapped himself in Moody's Invisibility Cloak and headed towards the sidewalk of Wisteria Walk. _Stuck in that stuffy old place, not even allowed to write a decent letter to the kid..._

He sighed heavily. _Ah well, it's only a few more days, according to Dumbledore. Even Sirius can last that long..._

He turned onto Privet Drive, his eyes automatically finding Number Four as he wondered where Harry currently was. Over the last few weeks during the times he'd spent patrolling the neighborhoods, he'd memorized all the places the boy seemed to enjoy haunting. There were a few alleys where he dug for abandoned newspapers, a playground he spent a lot of time at in the evenings, and a few trees Ken had found him sitting beneath, usually when he was avoiding his cousin Dudley's gang of miscreants. The patrol didn't succeed in finding Harry's current location, though he did find himself exercising a great deal of self-control when he did manage to spot Dudley throwing rocks at passing cars.

_Not my responsibility_, he reminded himself. _Though it might be interesting to send the Dursleys an anonymous note, telling them to keep a lookout on certain corners at certain times of the day... _

But if what Arabella said was true about Harry's relatives, they'd either ignore the letter or look for some excuse to explain why Dudley's actions were completely justified.

The sun began to set on Little Whinging and Ken still hadn't seen the boy he was supposed to be keeping an eye on. Since the moment he'd arrived here, he'd been sweating rather heavily and it had only been made worse by the cloak he had to wear; contrary to most belief, though the material that made up Invisibility Cloaks was incredibly thin, it didn't allow much of a breeze to get through.

_And if it did, it would probably be much less effective as an Invisibility Cloak_, Ken mused, turning a corner.

The sun finally disappeared over the horizon, and though that was supposed to bring a slight temperature drop, Ken couldn't help think this was a little much. He could see his breath coming out in white puffs and felt himself begin to shiver and his vision dim considerably. It took a few moments for the rational side of his mind to turn back on, pushing several old, bad memories back where they belonged in order to identify the cause for the change in environment.

_Dementors._

His breathing heavy, Ken forced himself to concentrate on the situation. There was only one reason dementors would come to Little Whinging: a scruffy-headed, green-eyed, bespectacled boy who was very likely to be wandering the streets at that moment. Sirius had mentioned Harry's ability to produce a corporeal patronus, but Dumbledore had been adamant to the point of being rather annoying in his stance that Harry was not to cast any magic under any circumstances.

Just as he was pondering his next move, whether he should send a message to a few Order members who were allowed past their front door, he heard a strangled yell less than a block away. His orders to remain completely hidden while on Privet Drive duty shot out of his mind as it was taken over by a stronger urge, one that had him sprinting down the sidewalk, the Invisibility Cloak trailing somewhere behind him. He made a half-hearted grab for it, but let it fall onto someone's grass as the feelings of intense, unending misery increased.

He slid into an alley, drawing his wand as he did so, and took a moment to take in the scene. Through the thick darkness, he could just see the ratty cloaked outline of a dementor bent over a large shape on the ground. There was another dementor on the other end of the alleyway, just behind a skinny shape Ken was certain to be Harry.

Somehow he was able to take a deep breath, conjure up what few happy memories he had left, and shout, "_Expecto Patronum!"_ The alley was filled with a brilliant white light that charged at the dementors, first the one bent over Dudley Dursley, then the one reaching for Harry. Both boys stared wide-eyed as the light chased the dementors off, did another lap around the area to check for hidden dangers, and faded away.

The moment the patronus had gone, the stars blinked back to life and the temperature rose to what it had been before. Ken took a deep, calming breath, muttered "_Lumos_," and proceeded further into the alley. Dudley had curled up on his side when he spotted a man with a wand, whimpering, his hands covering his face; the wizard watched him a moment to ensure himself that the dementor hadn't Kissed the boy. Harry was scrambling upright, reaching blindly for the wand he'd dropped at some point.

"All right?" Ken asked quietly, approaching Harry cautiously.

The boy nodded, blinking hard at the light. "Fine," he responded after a few moments. He looked over to where his cousin remained curled before meeting Ken's eye. "Who are you?"

"Ken," the older wizard replied automatically, studying Harry's face carefully. This was the first time he'd been so close to the boy. He then realized this wasn't enough of an explanation for Harry; the teenager had recovered his wand and was now pointing it at the other wizard. "It's all right, I'm a friend of Dumbledore's..."

The name of his Headmaster seemed to calm Harry significantly; he lowered his wand a touch. "What're you doing here?"

Ken glanced over his shoulder at Dudley before answering. "Just keeping an eye on things," he said rather lightly, considering the circumstances. "And a damn good thing I was, too."

This surprised a snort of laughter from Harry. "What were they doing here?"

The older wizard shook his head. "No idea, but I definitely don't think it safe to sit around pondering it. Come on, help me get him up and I'll walk you home..."

Though still clearly curious, Harry nodded and headed over to his cousin. "Get up, Dudley," he muttered, kneeling down to pry his cousin's hands away from his face. Dudley responded to this by putting a fist against Harry's cheek. Ken winced as Harry fell backwards.

"Enough of that," Ken said as Harry tentatively felt his bruising face. "Up you get." He reached down and pulled Dudley roughly to his feet. The boy looked as though he wanted to hit Ken as well, but Ken only raised an eyebrow and made sure Dudley could see his wand. Dudley swallowed hard, nervously glancing between the blond man and his cousin; after a few moments of this, he seemed to finally realize he was outnumbered by wizards and came along without fighting.

The walk to Number Four was mostly quiet. Dudley walked ahead of Ken and Harry, obviously eager to get away from them. Ken was busy thinking about what had just happened and what could have happened had he not been just a little quicker. Anger was fighting for the top spot with concern—now that he knew the boys were okay, he could concentrate fully on the situation. He'd be surprised if Dumbledore didn't already know about it; his wards would alert him of magic on Privet Drive, and there was only one real use for the Patronus Charm...

He felt Harry glancing at him every few steps, his mouth opening once in a while with a question, but he closed his mouth every time and continued to walk. Outside Number Four, Ken stopped at the end of the driveway. Dudley practically ran for the front door, while Harry hesitated.

"What's going on?" the boy blurted, unable to hold his silence anymore.

Ken sighed. He'd known Harry would ask and he knew what his answer had to be; it didn't mean he had to like it. "Look, just head inside and stay there," he said quietly. "You'll be safe now. I know that's not what you want to hear and I don't blame you for being pissed off, but your mother's blood is your best protection right now."

Harry's brow furrowed and Ken could almost hear the question in his mind—the one that wondered how Ken knew about that—but the boy changed his words at the last minute. "Didn't keep me safe from dementors," he grumbled.

Ken smiled a little. "Yeah, well, you weren't in the house at the time."

"I hate that place."

"I don't blame you. But I think I'll have to insist you don't go outside for the next couple days; I know you're getting antsy, but boredom and not knowing is a hell of a lot better than losing your soul. Dumbledore'll agree."

"So what, dementors attack me and I have to pretend nothing happened?"

Ken raised an eyebrow. "Not what I said," he said blandly. "Even before this, you were getting off Privet Drive in a few days' time; this just means your last few days are going to be incredibly uneventful."

Before Harry could question this last comment, the front door that Dudley had disappeared through opened and Vernon Dursley appeared in the doorframe. "Get in here, boy!" he shouted at Harry.

Harry winced, offered Ken a limp wave, and headed up the driveway. Vernon was looking suspiciously over his nephew's head at Ken as though trying to place his face. Ken snorted a laugh at the idea. Just before the front door shut, Harry turned back. "See you soon," Ken called just loudly enough for the boy to hear him. He wasn't sure if he'd really seen it or not, but he thought he saw Harry smile a bit before his face disappeared.

* * *

Remus yawned as he navigated the halls of Number Twelve the morning following the dementor attack. When he'd returned from his assignment at the Ministry where he'd spent several boring hours staring at the entrance of the Department of Mysteries, he was treated to a rather loud version of what had occurred earlier that evening. His anger about what had happened matched Sirius' almost perfectly, but years of masking his emotions allowed him to appear that he was listening very calmly; he knew if he displayed his anger, it would only fuel Sirius' anger to the point of no return.

To say it was a relief that Ken had been on Privet Drive was a severe understatement. If he hadn't been, there was a decent possibility the dementors could have Kissed Harry's Muggle cousin. Remus was confident enough in Harry's ability to produce the Patronus Charm that he didn't think the dementors could have attacked Harry, but a patronus's ability to defend another person depended on the caster's feeling for the other, and he knew perfectly well how Harry felt about Dudley Dursley. And even if nobody had been Kissed, Harry would have cast underage magic, which would have made for a horrible situation all around.

_But he didn't cast any underage magic and he got home safely,_ Remus reminded himself. _Ken intervened before anything irreversible happened, Harry will be here tomorrow evening, barring any unforeseen circumstances, and Sirius will be in a better mood than he's been in for months. _

Just as he started to turn a corner to the hall that led to the kitchen, Remus stopped and stepped back into the shadows at the sound of two voices, one of which he knew quite well, the other much less familiar.

"I don't care that you think he's safe there," hissed the unfamiliar voice. "He shouldn't be there in the first place!"

Dumbledore sounded rather tired when he responded, "We have discussed countless times why he is where he is. You've made your opinion known quite well—there are still two or three portraits in my study who refuse to show their faces for fear of something being thrown in their direction—but at present, I cannot allow the situation to change."

The other voice replied, but it was too quiet for Remus to make out the words spoken.

Dumbledore sighed and his next response was much gentler than the previous. "In time, my friend," he assured the other person. "But until then, I hope you will practice the patience I know you possess." The other chuckled softly. "Come, I believe breakfast is awaiting you, and I must return to Hogwarts..."

Remus waited a few minutes until he was certain both Dumbledore and the mystery wizard had gone, replaying the conversation in his mind. He could only assume the topic of argument was Harry, but who besides Sirius or maybe Molly would actually start an argument with the Headmaster in regards to him?

Upon his arrival in the kitchen, Remus spent a few moments looking over the assembled Order members, but he couldn't quite work out who owned the voice he'd heard in the hall. Molly was at the stove making breakfast while Arthur, Sirius, and Ken sat at the table discussing plans for the Advance Guard that would retrieve Harry. For a moment, Remus' eyes settled on Ken, wondering if perhaps he had been the one arguing with Dumbledore; he then realized he would have recognized Ken's voice and went to the counter beside Molly.

"Good morning, dear," the redheaded witch said, beaming when she spotted him. The wizards looked up and gave their own variations of _good morning_, Sirius' merely a grunt. "Have a seat, breakfast will be ready shortly. And there's tea if you fancy a cuppa."

Remus nodded, still looking around for the mystery wizard. "Molly," he finally said, keeping his voice low enough so it wouldn't attract the attention of the others. "Did Dumbledore just come through here?"

"What, dear?" asked Molly rather distractedly as she waved her wand to flip the bacon and sausages. "Oh yes, he went back to the school."

"And, er, did anybody come in with him?" Remus asked, trying to sound casual, but knowing he'd failed miserably.

Molly's brow furrowed in thought for a moment. "No, he was alone."

This, of course, only increased Remus' confusion. "Oh," he said before adding, "And the four of you have been in here the entire time?"

"For about an hour," the witch confirmed, now giving Remus an odd look. "Why do you ask?"

Remus shook his head and forced a small smile. "No reason," he answered. "Just curiosity."

Before Molly could question him any further, he joined the others at the table and poured himself some tea. So if Dumbledore and the mystery wizard had come through the kitchen, Molly was unaware of it. Not likely, Remus knew. She had seven children, two of which could give Sirius and James a run for their money prank-wise, and she very rarely missed anybody passing by her, especially if they were trying to do so stealthily.

_The other person could have been under an Invisibility Cloak,_ Remus reasoned. _Or even a Disillusionment Charm. But why would he even be in the house if he had to remain hidden? Why didn't Dumbledore just meet with him in his office?_

He jumped several inches off his chair when a sugar cube hit him on the side of the head. Remus looked up and found Sirius grinning at him. "What was that for?" he asked irritably, tossing the cube back at his friend.

Sirius only chuckled, caught the projectile, and dropped it in his own tea. "We've been trying to ask you something for ten minutes," he replied. "What's got you in such deep thought so early in the morning?"

Remus rolled his eyes, not eager to bring up his thoughts just yet; he was starting to think he'd imagined the whole thing. "Nothing important," he muttered. "What were you asking?"

"We just wondered if everything was finalized for tomorrow night," said Ken, refilling his own tea.

Remus nodded. "Nymphadora is sending her letter to the Dursleys tonight and if all works correctly, Harry's aunt and uncle will be long gone by the time we get there," he explained, smiling his thanks as Molly started floating plates of food over to the table. "And we've had more volunteers than are absolutely necessary for the guard, but Mad-Eye's still convinced it's not enough."

"Wish I could go," Sirius grumbled, buttering his toast rather moodily. "I'd love to spend the evening flying across the country."

"Yes, well, it's not worth the rest," Remus said quietly, raising his eyebrow pointedly to remind Sirius of their flying outing a few weeks ago. Sirius only rolled his eyes and returned to his breakfast. "And anyway, if something does go wrong, the very last thing we need is for the Ministry to see you with us."

Sirius' reply was lost as he stuffed an egg in his mouth.

Remus turned to Ken. "I take it you're still coming along?" he asked. Ken nodded, avoiding Sirius' eyes, and Remus decided to change the subject before his best friend pouted any more heavily. "So how's Buckbeak, Sirius? I haven't seen him in a while?" Sirius gave him a look that told him plain well he knew what Remus was doing, but started to answer anyway.

By the time Hermione and the Weasley children made it down to the kitchen, Sirius' spirits were lifted just enough that Remus wasn't completely dreading spending the day with him. Arthur left for work and Molly began assigning tasks to those remaining for that day's cleaning.

"Don't reckon you could order Kreacher to do this for us, Sirius?" Ron asked as they stared desolately at one of the bedrooms. It looked to have sprouted a forest—vines covered the walls and ceiling, and sinister-looking plants popped up from the carpet.

Sirius snorted humorlessly. "If he obeyed any of my orders, this place would have been spotless by now..."

"Where is Kreacher, anyway?" Remus asked.

"Saw him last in Regulus' room, digging through his closet for something or another." Sirius sighed heavily and cast a Bubblehead Charm on himself, making his voice rather muffled. "Well, come on, sooner we're done, the better."

* * *

The next evening arrived quickly, much to Remus' relief. Molly had banished the children from the kitchen as the time to leave drew nearer; they'd spent the better part of the day loudly discussing how great it would be to have Harry there finally, if for no other reason than to have another person to help fight off some of the creatures that had moved into Number Twelve over the last ten years. Sirius too was getting eager, but he handled it much differently than the teenagers: he'd taken up his normal pacing path in the kitchen and seemed to look for reasons to bite the others' heads off. Remus knew this was the result of nerves for the evening ahead and frustration at being left behind again. This knowledge, however, did nothing to make Sirius' behavior any less annoying.

The last of Harry's Advance Guard—Tonks and Kingsley led by a rather irritable-looking Mad-Eye Moody—finally arrived. Tonks seemed rather determined to get as far from the retired Auror and in her efforts, ended up tripping as she crossed the room and fell straight into Ken where he leaned against a counter. The wizard reached out and easily caught her, setting her back on her feet again. She muttered some apology and thanks, her face flushing more shades of red than would have been possible for another person. Remus shifted a bit in his chair, his eyes narrowed slightly at Ken and Tonks.

"Everything finalized, Lupin?" growled Mad-Eye.

Remus started and shook himself, turning towards Mad-Eye. "Yes," he said briskly. "Dumbledore has temporarily adjusted the charms around Privet Drive to allow us to Apparate directly into Harry's backyard. The opening will only last about a minute, and anybody caught when it closes..." He winced at the thought. "Well, let's just make certain everybody arrives on time."

"And the signal?" Kingsley asked.

Remus started to reply, but there was a sudden flash of fire over the middle of the table; a red and gold feather could now be seen floating lazily towards a plate of sandwiches. Remus stood immediately. "That's it," he said, reaching for his broomstick and shrinking it to palm-size. He then turned towards Sirius. "We won't be long."

Sirius had finally ceased his pacing and was now glowering at the entire guard.

The werewolf sighed and turned back to the kitchen. "See all of you shortly, then." He prepared to Apparate, took one last look around the kitchen, turned on the spot, and disappeared. Within seconds, he was standing in the backyard of Number Four, Privet Drive. He sincerely hoped Tonks' letter had done its job and lured the Dursleys out of the house; Remus couldn't see them responding well to nearly ten witches and wizards knocking on their door.

He looked around at the sound of several soft _pops_ signaling the arrival of the rest of the guard. As everyone adjusted and looked around interestedly at the Muggle neighborhood, Remus glanced around to make sure there were no Splinchings, that Sirius hadn't decided to tagalong after all, and that there was no ambush awaiting them. This last was incredibly unlikely, since Lily Potter's sacrifice for her son, strengthened by Albus Dumbledore, ensured the protection of the neighborhood, but it didn't hurt to double-check the area.

"Let's go," Remus told the group, walking forward to the backdoor. He peeked through a window, finding the entire downstairs dark. For a very brief moment, he wondered if Vernon and Petunia may have taken Harry along on their evening out, but Mad-Eye quickly set his mind at ease.

"He's there," Mad-Eye grunted, his magical eyeball swiveling a little in its socket, then sticking with only the white showing. He cursed and punched himself in the side of the head to loosen it.

Remus moved quickly forward to ensure the retired Auror didn't see his lips twitching. He tapped his wand against the doorknob using a non-verbal spell. The lock clicked and Remus pushed open the door, holding it for the others. Nobody seemed too bothered with keeping their voices down as they entered; Tonks came in with such enthusiasm that she bumped into the drain board, knocking a plate to the ground. A few people sniggered as Kingsley repaired the dish and Mad-Eye glared at the young witch.

"So much for the element of surprise," Ken muttered to Remus as they led the way to the staircase. "He'll have to have heard that."

"I don't know," Remus said lightly. "His father could have slept through the end of the world."

Ken only chuckled as everyone assembled at the foot of the stairs. Mad-Eye pointed his wand up the staircase, muttering his own unlocking charm. Remus raised a questioning eyebrow, but the older wizard only shook his head, and continued to wait.

They heard the creaking of the floor above them followed by soft footsteps. Remus smiled a little as he got his first glance of Harry in two years. The boy had grown a great deal and was looking even more like his father than he had at thirteen. Harry was currently eyeing the group warily, his wand held out in front of him. "Evening, Harry," Remus said quietly.

"Professor Lupin?" asked Harry uncertainly, his wand lowering.

Remus' smile widened. "Come on downstairs, we don't have much time."

"Check his identity first," Mad-Eye growled. "Let's not bring back any Death Eater."

"What was the last thing I said to you the other night?" Ken asked before anyone else could speak.

"Er, 'see you soon,' I think?" Harry peered at Ken with some interest. "How come your patronus doesn't have a shape?"

"He's for real," said Ken. "And overly curious."

Tonks reached over and switched the hall light on, forcing everybody to blink rapidly as their eyes adjusted. Harry started down the stairs as Kingsley led the group back to the kitchen. "You weren't joking," the boy remarked to Ken.

Ken grinned. "Told you we'd come for you."

Remus chuckled and reached out to shake the boy's hand. "How are you, Harry?"

"All right," Harry responded, still looking rather shocked at the situation. "Are we leaving soon?"

"Almost immediately," Remus assured him. "Have you gotten your things packed?"

Harry nodded. "I, er, did it this morning," he said bashfully, glancing at Ken out of the corner of his eye.

"Good," Remus said. "Why don't you grab your trunk and meet us in the kitchen? We've only got about a quarter of an hour before the signal."

Harry nodded and turned, racing up the stairs two at a time.

Once Harry had disappeared through his bedroom door, Remus and Ken headed towards the kitchen where the other members of the guard were scattered around investigating the fascinating Muggle toys. Remus retrieved paper and pen, and sat down to jot a quick note to Harry's relatives about where he'd gone. He suspected Vernon and Petunia couldn't be bothered to worry about their nephew, but Dumbledore insisted it be done. As he sealed the note in an envelope, Remus caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to find Ken lingering in the hallway, looking at the photos of the Dursleys hanging on the wall. The other wizard seemed to be muttering something under his breath that Remus couldn't quite make out, though he thought he was able to pick out a few words, "Pig, pig, horse and pig, horse and _big_ pig..."

Stifling his laughter, Remus turned back to the kitchen to listen as Tonks tried to explain the inner workings of a microwave to Elphias Doge. Luckily, Harry returned to the kitchen before Elphias had a chance to experiment with the appliance using his wand, his trunk and owl cage in tow. After a quick round of introductions, during Tonks attempted to hex Remus for calling her by her given first name, Kingsley pointed out a set of sparks in the sky and everyone started to prepare for their departure.

"How're we getting to... wherever we're going?" Harry asked as he watched the activity around him.

"Brooms," Remus responded with a small smile. "We thought you could use some fresh air after being locked up in this place for so long..."

Harry nodded approvingly, but took a few steps backwards as Mad-Eye advanced on him, his wand at the ready. "This won't hurt a bit," Mad-Eye said gruffly, tapping Harry's forehead with his wand tip. The boy winced; Remus gave him a sympathetic smile right before Harry's body changed to match the exact color of the counter behind him.

"That's the other signal," announced Kingsley, turning to face the kitchen from where he'd been staring out the window. "Time to fly."

"Have your broom, Harry?" Remus asked as Tonks grabbed Harry's trunk, Ken took Hedwig's cage, and Mad-Eye steered Harry out the backdoor.

"Right here," Ken said, reaching over to grab the Firebolt resting on top of Harry's trunk and handing it to the boy-shaped patch of air. "Fancy twigs, these. You good enough to deserve them?"

Harry started to reply, but Remus interrupted. "He's excellent," he said, patting Harry on the back. "Harry, you're going to be flying directly behind Emmeline and in front of Mad-Eye. The rest of us will be flying around you all the way to London."

"If one of us should fall, keep flying—"

"No one's going to fall, Mad-Eye," Remus said, giving Harry a reassuring smile. "Shall we?"

Less than a minute later, the group was soaring over Little Whinging, headed in the direction of London. Though the mission wasn't quite over, Remus found himself feeling relieved that at least one portion of it was finished; they had Harry.

* * *

**AN:** Evening, kiddies! Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, I certainly am. You know how to let me know what you think: review. Have a good rest of the weekend!


	4. Four

**Slight gross-out warning for the end of the chapter. Enjoy!  


* * *

**

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Four_

_  
_Flying high and fast towards London, Remus kept one hand around his wand and both eyes scanning the area all around them. The city's lights were brightening below, and he opened his mouth to call out to Mad-Eye that they needed to begin their descent, but the words froze in his throat. There were suddenly more people in Harry's guard than had been there before.

It took Remus half a second to identify the new arrivals as Death Eaters, and he used the other half second to curse one of them off a broom. Almost immediately, the rest of the Order realized what was going on; Remus instinctively flew closer to Harry, seeing Ken do the same, as jets of light flew all around them.

"How'd they find us?" Remus shouted to Ken on Harry's other side. Both wizards were aiming their own spells at the Death Eaters as they continued to fly.

"Don't know!" Ken returned, hitting one of the masked, hooded flying forms with what looked like a Stunning Spell; the person slumped sideways and fell off his broomstick. Nobody looked to see where he'd gone.

"Keep him covered!" Mad-Eye's voice roared over the noise as he fell back a bit to stun another attacker.

Remus hadn't actually planned on leaving Harry open for attack, so Mad-Eye's order was unnecessary, but Remus continued to block any and all jets of light that came anywhere near them. There were green spells flying now, though, and Remus was forced to reach over and physically yank Harry out of the way of one.

_I should take him lower, get him out of the fight, they won't follow me and an empty broom..._

Before Remus could act on this thought, however, Ken yelled, "Keep him close!" and before Remus could even open his mouth to respond, Ken was falling to the very back of the guard, shouting curses at the Death Eaters as he went.

Though he wanted to turn and look over his shoulder to see where Ken had gone and what he was doing, Remus stayed at Harry's side, feeling rather than seeing Emmeline Vance take up Ken's abandoned post. An instant later, he cursed painfully as a Cutting Hex caught him in the leg, sending him blundering sideways into Harry and nearly pushing the boy off his broomstick. A combination of Harry's natural flying ability and Emmeline's lucky grab for his arm kept Harry on his broom, and Harry's invisible hand closed around Remus' robes, holding him on.

"Some protector I am," Remus growled once he had his balance back.

"I saw what you pulled me away from before," retorted Harry. "You're hurt now, that changes things... hey, where'd they all go?"

Remus looked up. Harry was right. The hostile spells, and the Death Eaters who had been throwing them, were now gone. Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Tonks were still looking around wildly for their attackers while the other members of the guard had closed in around Harry, just in case they were missing something.

"Clear!" Mad-Eye called grudgingly after a few minutes. "Start the descent."

* * *

Remus limped down the stairs leading to the kitchen with Kingsley's help. They'd managed to arrive at Headquarters without any further incident and only very minor injuries—along with Remus' leg, Tonks had gotten hit with a spell that resulted in her nose looking as though she'd gone face first into a wall, and Sturgis Podmore's left arm was hanging at an odd angle. The guard had immediately ushered Harry inside the house and sent him upstairs with assurances that they would discuss what had happened later. As Kingsley was settling Remus into a chair, Mad-Eye was already halfway through explaining what had happened to Dumbledore. The entire Order was listening closely, and Sirius seemed to be undecided between going out to find whoever had ambushed them and going to see if Harry was all right.

"You seem to be missing one of your party," Dumbledore observed quietly, looking around the kitchen.

Remus looked around as well, counting heads. Somebody was indeed missing. "Ken," he said to Dumbledore. "He fell back just before I got hexed; I didn't see where he'd gone..." He looked questioningly to the rest of the Advance Guard, but they all shook their heads, silently confirming none of them had seen what happened to Ken Revold.

Dumbledore was silent for several minutes, his expression blank. Remus had learned this only happened when the Headmaster was genuinely and greatly concerned about something. _We should have kept an eye on him,_ Remus chided himself. _Who knows what happened to him..._

_The entire objective of tonight was to get Harry Potter to Order Headquarters safely, _replied another part of his mind._ You did that. Ken is a full grown wizard and he knew the risks of joining the Order. He can take care of himself._

This did nothing to set Remus' mind at ease.

"Unless there is any further business that needs my immediate attention," Dumbledore finally said, his expression still closed off, "I am going to return to Hogwarts and attempt to locate our missing Order member from there. Please contact me if the need should arise."

And with that, Dumbledore swept out of the kitchen basement without another word.

_He's worried_, Remus' mind supplied. He then rolled his eyes at himself and replied with a heavy layer of sarcasm, _Can't imagine why..._

"You all right?" asked a voice directly behind Remus. He turned to find Sirius had crossed the room and sat in a chair beside his.

Remus nodded. "Fine, just a cut." He retrieved his wand from his jacket, pulled up his robes, and tapped the wand's tip against his bleeding leg, watching the cut clean, seal, and disappear all within seconds. "And Harry's fine as well; a little shaken up, probably, but nothing physically wrong with him..."

Sirius nodded a little to acknowledge he'd heard and proceeded to stare at the fireplace. Though Ken had only been part of the Order of the Phoenix a short time, less than two months, it seemed Sirius had grown rather fond of him. Remus tried to think of another time he'd seen Sirius so concerned about someone he'd known only a short time, but was hard-pressed to come up with anything.

_Ken's been the only person besides me able to get him out of his bad moods. And there've even been times I couldn't manage it, but Ken could. He's what I imagine Sirius would have been if Azkaban had never happened—maybe that has something to do with it..._

He was startled out of his thoughts by Mad-Eye's recollection of the evening to the Order members who hadn't been able to hear the murmured conversation between him and Dumbledore upon their arrival. "What I'd like to know," the retired Auror growled at the end of the story, "is how Revold managed to get all the Death Eaters off us at the exact same time."

Remus' brow furrowed as he tried to remember the timing of everything. It had been less than a minute between Ken's falling to the back of the guard and when the Death Eaters had stopped shooting curses at them... _What kind of distraction would be enough to get them all away from Harry Potter? Ken had to have been outnumbered six to one..._ Remus shook himself. His mind had been going over likely scenarios of what could have taken place and none of them ended too well.

The kitchen fell suddenly into a stony, tense silence, and Remus looked around to find out why, locating the cause immediately: Ken Revold had just entered the room, looking tired, but completely unharmed. "All right, you lot?" asked the wizard, looking around the kitchen.

"Stop right there," Mad-Eye growled, standing and drawing his wand, pointing at Ken. At least four other people mirrored the action, Remus included.

Ken put his hands up, gesturing that he wasn't about to attack them. Nobody lowered their wands. "If I'm not Ken Revold," he said calmly, "how would I have got in here? I'm not the Secret-Keeper..."

A few people relaxed; Mad-Eye didn't. He waved his wand in a motion Remus recognized as an Identity Spell. The retired Auror's brow furrowed at whatever the result was—only he could see it—and tried again. Finally he grunted and sat down again, still eyeing the wizard suspiciously. "What happened to you?"

"I managed to draw the Death Eaters away from you, lost them somewhere around Kent, and got back here," Ken replied simply, accepting the cup of tea Molly offered him with a smile of thanks.

Before he could go on, there was a burst of flame on the table just in front of Ken that left another feather from Fawkes the phoenix, similar to the one which had appeared earlier to signal it was time to retrieve Harry. The meaning of this one didn't seem difficult to decipher: Dumbledore knew Ken had returned and wanted him at Hogwarts immediately. The wizard sighed wearily, glanced at the tea he hadn't even begun drinking, and stood. "Back in a bit, then," he said flatly, crossing the room to the fireplace, clapping Sirius on the shoulder as he passed. "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office." Green flames whirled him out of sight, leaving the kitchen in silence once more.

"Bollocks," Mad-Eye grunted the moment the flames had died down again. Every eye turned towards him. "He was lying."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "About what?" he asked quietly. "He _couldn't_ have got in here unless he was who he said he was. Quite apart from the Fidelius Charm, there are about a dozen other charms and wards that test the identity of every person who crosses through the front door. If he was someone else pretending to be Ken or he was under the Imperius Curse, we would know."

Mad-Eye waved this off. "No, he is who he says he is," he said gruffly. "I just don't believe his story—'managed to draw away the Death Eaters.' How? They knew who we had with us—though how they knew it is another matter—what would distract them from Potter? Little odd he isn't injured, too. There were at least eight of them."

"What're you trying to say, Mad-Eye?" Sirius demanded heatedly.

The older wizard shrugged as nonchalantly as he could while the expression on his face revealed his meaning perfectly. "Just that I don't trust the situation," he said gruffly. "There's something odd about that man, you mark my words."

"You've said that about every person in this room at least a dozen times," Sirius muttered under his breath so that only Remus could hear him.

An uneasy silence filled the kitchen for some time until Molly stood and began bustling around the kitchen to work on dinner. This seemed to jolt everyone else out of their respective thoughts as people started saying their goodbyes and left for their own homes. Kingsley and Tonks both decided to remain behind, though when Tonks jumped up to assist in the dinner preparations, she managed to knock over a jug of pumpkin juice Molly had just retrieved from the icebox.

"Gotten a little paranoid in his old age," Sirius commented quietly to Remus under cover of the noise of cleaning this up.

Remus sighed, wanting to agree with his friend, but unable to commit to anything but an acknowledging murmur. He wanted to deny what Mad-Eye had been insinuating, that Ken had somehow been involved in the Death Eaters' locating the Order. Remus always fancied himself a decent judge of character, especially as he grew older and slightly more cynical of the world. There hadn't been anything suggesting Ken wasn't who he said he was—

_That's a damn lie,_ his mind told him with a dry laugh. _You've always thought there was something off about him, from the moment you first met him._

_And didn't I tell Sirius not long ago that there was something off about everybody in the Order of the Phoenix?_ he thought back. _We may not know much about Ken, but I have no doubt in my mind that he's on our side. _

_So how _did_ the Death Eaters know you were moving Harry tonight?_

Again, Remus sighed. He knew what connections his mind was making in regards to Ken, but he was determined that, until further evidence came to light, he wouldn't jump to any of the conclusions Mad-Eye had made.

"Well, I'll just go fetch the children," Molly announced once she set the stew to stir itself.

Remus glanced over at Sirius, watching his friend's expression go from brooding to something resembling happiness as he realized not only was his godson away from the Muggles and in this house, but on his way to join them for dinner.

* * *

Just as Remus had hoped, Sirius' mood had improved greatly over dinner with Harry and his friends. The kitchen was in high spirits as everyone laughed and joked, semi-successfully pushing aside everything that had happened a few hours before. Over dessert, Tonks entertained the kids with morphing her nose into different amusing shapes, including one that resembled a certain Potions Master that caused Sirius to snort wine through his nose and tease his cousin mercilessly about her wonderful new look.

Ken returned just as Sirius had managed to get his laughter under control. Mostly for the benefit of the children, any discussion about where Ken had been and what Dumbledore had said to him was put aside until they went to bed. In the meantime, Ken engaged Harry into conversation about flying and Quidditch; Sirius quickly joined in and Remus leaned back in his seat, wondering where this jovial Sirius had been hiding over the last several months. The moment Harry had entered the kitchen, Sirius seemed to forget the vast majority of his bitterness and frustrations. Remus really hoped this lasted longer than he suspected it would.

"You know, I'm surprised at you, Harry," Remus heard Sirius say during a lull of Quidditch conversation. "You haven't asked anything about the Death Eaters or Voldemort..."

Remus inwardly groaned, but turned in his seat to see Harry's reaction. As he'd expected, Harry's own good mood evaporated as he looked at his godfather.

"We really shouldn't be discussing this right now..."

All eyes turned to Ken, who was looking directly at Sirius. Remus swallowed and braced himself for a fight.

"And who're you to determine what I discuss with my godson?" Sirius asked calmly, though Remus could see his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his wand.

Ken shrugged. "Dumbledore asked me to make sure Harry doesn't hear more than he needs to."

"He hasn't heard anything yet!" Sirius said loudly. "And he was in a bleeding battle tonight; I think he deserves to hear _something_."

"What is there to tell him?" Ken shot back. "We don't know what happened tonight or how the Death Eaters even found us. If you ask me—"

"Yeah, well, no one asked you," Sirius said testily.

"Sirius, Ken's right," Remus said quietly, realizing every person in the kitchen was silently and vigilantly watching the discussion. "We don't really have anything to tell Harry he doesn't already know." His eyes darted to the Weasley twins; he was certain they'd filled Harry in on what they'd discovered.

"But I don't know anything!" Harry objected. "I've been waiting all summer for word on what Voldemort's doing, then I get attacked by dementors, _still_ don't find anything out, and when I finally do get off Privet Drive, we're attacked!"

Remus sighed audibly, though he was certain it was drowned out by Molly's reply. "He's too young," she insisted.

Sirius bristled and turned on the Weasley matriarch, but Ken was talking to Harry already. "Look, we'll tell you what we can when we can," he assured the boy. "But this isn't the time. We've all had a long night..."

Sirius looked mutinous as Molly agreed with Ken and began to usher her children, Hermione, and Harry off to bed. Once the last of them disappeared, Sirius rounded on Ken. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" he shouted. Ken remained composed in his chair as he looked steadily at Sirius. "You've got no right to sit there and tell me what I can and cannot say to my godson! You just met him a few days ago, you don't know what he's been through!"

Ken shut his eyes for a second, rubbed the bridge of his nose, then opened them once more. "I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do," he said with surprising calm. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need some rest myself. Good night."

"Well," Tonks said quietly when Ken disappeared up the stairs. "I guess that's the end of that party..."

Remus snorted a humorless laugh, but nodded his agreement, glancing at Sirius only to find his friend glaring at the door where Ken had walked through it. "Help me get this place cleaned up a bit?" he asked.

The only response was Sirius' chair scraping against the concrete floor and the wizard's immediate departure. For a brief moment, Remus considered going after him, if only to keep a duel breaking out, but when there were no shouts of curses or noises of somebody being thrown forcefully into a wall, Remus surmised his friend had gone to brood with Buckbeak. As he started in on the dinner dishes, he couldn't help but agree with Kingsley's muttered words as he and Tonks said their goodbyes.

"It's going to be a long few weeks..."

* * *

But the next morning, though Sirius remembered the evening before vividly, Remus had somehow convinced him not to start any more rows with anybody in front of Harry. "He doesn't need to see you fighting with everybody," the werewolf had said reasonably. "Yes, he does deserve to know things, but we need to sit down and discuss exactly what things those are before we talk to him." Grudgingly, Sirius had agreed, and managed to maintain a polite demeanor with both Molly Weasley and Ken Revold throughout breakfast, mostly by biting his tongue.

Remus had gone off on some business for Dumbledore, leaving Sirius, Ken, Molly, and the children to attempt to make Number Twelve livable. They'd started out in the drawing room that day, spraying the curtains for doxies. A competition of sorts had begun between the Weasley twins, Ken, and Sirius to see who could knock the most out in a minute's time. Ken had forfeited his win when a few of the doxies had distracted him with fancy flying while several others flew to the back of his head and began braiding his hair.

Though normally Sirius would have assisted his friend in escaping the doxy attack, he, like most everyone else in the room, was far too busy laughing to be any real help. Ken finally managed to shake off the doxies, spray his attackers with doxycide, and glare at the rest of the room, an expression that was belied by the flower one of the doxies had managed to slip into one of the braids.

Once everyone had their breath back from laughing at Ken, and Ken himself had fixed his hair and managed to get the red tinge out of his cheeks, Molly announced she was heading down to retrieve lunch, while Sirius decided to grab lunch for Buckbeak. When he returned fifteen minutes later, it was to find the Weasley twins amusing the others with a fake wand. He chuckled as the wand shot off like a cannon and fake snakes and spiders flew everywhere, causing Ron to jump up onto the sofa and his friends to laugh.

Ken turned and grinned at Sirius. "What's in the bag?" he asked, gesturing to the grey sack the wizard had dropped just inside the door.

"Dead rats," Sirius replied casually. Harry raised an eyebrow in both question and disgust. "Lunch for Buckbeak." Harry's expression cleared and he nodded.

"May I?" Ken asked, gesturing to the bag.

Sirius shrugged his answer. Ken reached into the bag with still gloved hands from the doxy attack, removed three of the dead rats, and began to juggle them. The boys laughed at the squelching noises the rats made when Ken caught them. Hermione and Ginny looked on with borderline disgust; though Ginny seemed to be fighting twitching lips.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked with more interest than he'd shown in anything so far today.

Ken grinned and caught the rats. "Here, I'll show you," he said, glancing at Harry's bare hands. "Er, you'll want to put on some gloves..."

Harry did, and everyone looked on in interest as Ken handed Harry the first rat. The boy made a face like he'd just stuffed his hand into a pile of dragon dung, but accepted the second rat in the same hand and the third in his left. Ken retrieved three more rats from the bag and stood in front of Harry. "Okay, first, toss one of the rats in your right hand in an arc and catch it in your left." He demonstrated this, then gestured for Harry to try. Harry dropped the rat the first few times, but caught it after his fifth try. Ken grinned at him. "Good, now, keep the rat you just caught in your left hand, and toss the other the same way to your right."

Sirius leaned against the wall and watched as Ken taught his godson how to juggle rats. When Harry didn't seem able to get the motions correct and started to get frustrated, Ken moved behind Harry and guided his arms through the correct motions, ruffling Harry's hair in the way Sirius had thought Harry only tolerated from _him_ when Harry finally caught on. Sirius growled under his breath but kept his distance.

With encouragement from his friends, Harry continued to juggle the rats, laughing along with everyone else when he dropped one on Hermione's foot and made her screech. He was on a streak when Molly returned, announcing she'd brought soup and sandwiches. This distracted Harry just enough that one of the rats flew across the room and landed directly on top of a sandwich. The laughter ceased immediately as everyone compared Molly's and Harry's shocked faces, and silence reigned for a few moments until Fred cheerfully announced, "Well, that one's Harry's!"

He strode forward amidst renewed laughter, grabbed the rat by the tail, and dropped it back into the bag George held open for him, then scooped the sandwich off the platter and offered it to Harry. "Eat up, mate!"

"Eat it! Eat it!" chanted Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George. Hermione seemed to be trying to hide behind her hair.

Harry made a face as Ken joined in on the chant. Molly shook her head, setting the platter and tureen down on a low table. Finally, Harry sighed, gave a gallant shrug, and said, "Can't be any worse than Hagrid's cooking." He took a rather large bite out of the sandwich and chewed slowly and thoughtfully, then offered it to Ron. "Try a bit?" he asked with his mouth full. "The rat really adds something..."

Sirius slipped out of the room before he saw Ron's response and headed back to Buckbeak's room, his good mood gone as completely as if a dementor had slipped into the house.

* * *

**AN:** Sandwich, anyone? I had a lot of fun on this chapter with help from whydoyouneedtoknow. Hope you enjoyed. Please review. More coming soon-ish.


	5. Five

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Five_

As the time for the younger contingent of the Order to return to Hogwarts drew nearer, Sirius was spending more and more time in Buckbeak's room. Remus' one attempt to drag his best friend out to socialize with the rest of the house had resulted in a truly nasty boil hex; after nearly three days, he was still having trouble sitting in certain chairs in the house. Harry had done his best as well, making every attempt he could to draw his godfather into conversations and games between him and his friends, but he was failing just as badly as Remus. Even Remus trying to guilt Sirius into spending time with his godson before he left for school wasn't working.

Ken seemed to be attempting to make up for Sirius' brooding behavior with Harry. The older wizard spent much of his free time with Harry and his friends, helping them clean the house, telling stories, and generally trying to keep Harry's mind off his godfather. Sirius' attitude about Ken had done a complete turnaround since Harry had arrived in the house; from what Remus could tell, Sirius was growing rather jealous of the relationship between his godson and the wizard. Of course, Remus hadn't had the nerve to confront his friend on the subject; Sirius' temper was so close to the surface these days that Remus did what he could not to make things worse. The only time Sirius had spent a prolonged period of time out of his room was when he and Remus had pulled Harry aside to tell him what they could about what was happening in the wizarding world.

"We've managed to convince a handful of people," Remus had told Harry. "The Weasleys, obviously, as well as Kingsley, Tonks, and Ken. But it's becoming trickier for those who work at the Ministry to spread word; there's no telling who's reporting to Fudge, so one wrong word to the wrong person could mean loss of a job or even jail time."

"So that's it?" Harry asked. "We're just sitting around and waiting until he starts attacking people?"

Sirius scoffed. "Of course not," he said. "But just like Voldemort, everything we do has to be done by stealth." He hesitated, glancing at Remus out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, followers aren't the only thing he's after."

Though Remus had been very tempted to hit Sirius with a silencing charm to prevent Harry being told something he couldn't know just yet, he'd merely sat back in his chair, prepared in case Sirius went a little too far in his explanations. Sirius licked his lips as he thought over his next words, purposefully ignoring the look his best friend was giving him. "Stuff he didn't have last time," he said carefully. "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

"Like a weapon?"

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Remus cut him off. "No more, Sirius," he said quietly but firmly, looking directly at his friend with an expression that didn't allow much argument. Sirius rolled his eyes, but settled back in his chair, demonstrating that he wasn't going to say anything more. Remus turned back to Harry. "It's not that we don't think you can handle this, Harry, but until more information presents itself, it's safer for all of us, you especially, to be kept a little in the dark."

Harry had grudgingly accepted this, and gone off in search of his friends.

"That's not fair, Remus," Sirius said quietly.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "No, what's not fair is for you to sit there and start telling him things he can't know, then have me being forced to stop you before you've told something you've been explicitly told not to."

Sirius rolled his eyes again. "Dumbledore's out of his bleeding mind, Remus. Harry _needs_ to know about the prophecy."

"Right now, he doesn't," Remus said. "In time, he will know."

Shoving his chair into the wall, Sirius stomped out of the room, putting a definite end to the conversation.

* * *

Upon entering the kitchen two nights before the end of August, Remus found himself smiling. Normally, this wasn't such an odd occurrence, but over the last week, he'd had very little reason to do so. Between assignments with the Order that kept him busy at all hours of the night, dealing with Sirius' ever increasing bad mood in regards to what his godson wasn't being told, and the way Ken Revold seemed to be making attempts to make up for Sirius' brooding with Harry, he'd spent the majority of his time frowning.

Tonight, however, it seemed Molly had taken it upon herself to arrange some sort of party in celebration to Ron's and Hermione's appointments to school prefects, and Remus couldn't remember the last time the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black had seemed so carefree. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting in one corner of the room, each with a plate of food in their laps, obviously discussing something very amusing—Remus couldn't recall ever seeing Harry laughing so hard.

_Of course, every time I see Harry, we're in a life-or-death situation. Have to change that. _

Sirius sat at the kitchen table with Tonks and Kingsley while the Aurors explained exactly what they were doing to throw Rufus Scrimgeour off the hunt for "the most dangerous wizard living." Said dangerous wizard seemed greatly amused at the lengths they'd gone to for him. With a brief glance to make certain his best friend wasn't expecting him to join in the conversation immediately, Remus grabbed a butterbeer off the counter and made his way to the fireplace where Ken sat looking very deep in thought.

"Mind if I sit?"

Ken started a little, then looked up with a rather forced smile. "Not at all," he said, gesturing at the empty chair beside him. "Long day?"

Remus had just tried unsuccessfully to stifle a large yawn; he chuckled and nodded. "It's rather boring sitting in a clump of bushes, staring at an abandoned building for ten hours."

Ken snorted a laugh and nodded in sympathy. "I take it Mad-Eye's paranoia about Death Eaters using it to sacrifice bunny rabbits has absolutely no truth to it?"

"No," Remus said with mock seriousness. "The bunny population in that area of the country continues to flourish..."

Ken chuckled a bit and took a sip of his drink. "Good to know."

Remus nodded, watching the other wizard. Though he wasn't nearly as cynical as Sirius when it came to Ken, he had noticed how Ken seemed to go out of his way to spend time with Harry and his friends, even when he had some other task that should have forced him to give Harry a small smile of acknowledgment and move on.

That same smile had been all Remus had had time for lately, come to think of it; he had wanted to use the time Harry spent in the Order's headquarters to actually talk to the boy, catch up on a year's worth of his life, even if Remus was fully aware of everything Harry had gone through during his fourth year at Hogwarts. It was something Remus had expected to see Sirius doing, but every spare moment his best friend had was spent tending to Buckbeak or sulking in a corner because Ken was talking to Harry about something.

Ken glanced at Remus out of the corner of his eye. "Sirius isn't happy with me, is he."

For a moment, Remus considered lying, telling Ken Sirius was just fine, just a little depressed because Harry would be leaving soon, but he found himself fed up with trying to manufacture excuses for his best friend. "Sirius never did learn how to share," Remus said with a wry grin that made Ken laugh. "He's spent the last few months waiting for Harry to get here, but now he's realizing that Harry enjoys the company of several other people in addition to his godfather, and so he goes away and sulks about it."

"I'm not trying to steal Harry away from him or anything," Ken said slowly, looking over at the boy in question. "I just..." A sad smile formed on his face. "I see a lot of myself in him. And when I was his age, I had a habit of desperately seeking out people who could commiserate with whatever I was going through. I know Sirius wants to be that person for him, and I know I really have no place trying to determine what's right for him... I just don't think it's best to have Sirius around Harry right now if he's going to be brooding and depressed, you know?"

Remus nodded slowly. "I do know," he said quietly. "And I appreciate what you're doing with Harry, even if Sirius is being childish about it. I think the past fourteen years have taken more of a toll on him than he'll ever let on, even to me, and I don't think he realizes that what he's actually doing when he hides out with Buckbeak is slowly pushing Harry away from him."

Ken gave a bit of a half-shrug. He started to reply, but his attention was diverted as a discussion about prefect badges rose above the general conversation. Ginny had just asked Sirius if he had been a prefect during his time at school, and Harry grinned a little as his godfather let out a loud, barking laugh at the thought.

"No way," Sirius finally said, sniggering into his drink. "I was too busy in detention with James. Remus was the good boy, he got the badge."

Remus gave them a wry smile as he and Ken moved to sit at the table. "Yes, well, I can't say I was a very effective prefect," he said. "I think Professor Dumbledore had hoped I might be able to exercise some control over my friends; I need scarcely say that I failed dismally on that front."

Sirius waved this off. "You managed to make us feel bad sometimes; that was something."

"What about you, Ken?" Harry asked. "Were you a prefect?"

Ken snorted. "I'm afraid I'm with Sirius on this one: way too much time causing trouble to be bothered with anything else." He shrugged. "Could have had worse fates..."

Ron and Hermione drifted off to talk to Ginny, leaving Harry alone with Remus, Sirius, and Ken. "Excited to return to school, Harry?" Ken asked, sipping his butterbeer.

Sirius sank a little in his chair as Harry replied. "I guess," he said. "Looking forward to getting back to Quidditch at any rate..."

Ken nodded. "What position do you play?"

"Seeker."

The blond wizard grinned. "No kidding," he said. "I played Chaser in my day..."

Harry's brow furrowed as Sirius suddenly stood up and went to join Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mundungus Fletcher in a discussion about safe houses. "Any tips?" he asked Ken.

Ken nodded, his grin widening as he began to get into different Quidditch tactics. Remus fought down the urge to slap Sirius in the back of the head and tuned in to what Tonks was telling Ginny and Hermione about her own troublemaking days.

* * *

Later in the evening, Ken went over to the counter to refill his goblet of wine and spotted Harry sitting in a corner, watching the party with a thoughtful frown on his face. Five minutes ago, Harry'd been laughing harder than he had all night at Fred and George's attempts to convince Ron that the bushy eyebrows he'd been wearing for much of the evening after eating one of their experimental products suited him well; something fairly grave must have come up in his mind. Glancing around to see if Sirius would notice—he was in close conversation with Arthur Weasley, so it didn't seem likely—Ken filled his drink and headed over to talk to Harry.

"All right?" he asked, sitting in a chair beside the boy's.

Harry seemed startled out of his thoughts. He looked over and smiled a little before taking a drink of his butterbeer. "Fine," he said quietly.

Ken raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Harry gave him a rather sheepish look and shrugged. "I was just thinking about the prefect assignments," he finally admitted. "I'd forgotten that was this year and I guess I didn't really expect Ron to be one."

"Ah," Ken said quietly, nodding. "Are you wondering perhaps why Dumbledore didn't give you the badge?" Harry looked away from the wizard and gave a noncommittal half-shrug which was enough answer for Ken. "I'd wondered myself actually." Harry turned back to him in surprise. "Some people think it would show Dumbledore's confidence in you to have given you the badge, let people see you're not as mental as the _Prophet_ seems to think you are."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that," he muttered.

Chuckling, Ken took a sip of his drink. "Others think you've got enough responsibility to be getting on with and you didn't need the extra stress."

Harry hesitated. "What do you think?" he asked, looking genuinely interested in Ken's opinion.

The wizard gave some thought to his response. "Well," he began slowly, "I think being a prefect is highly overrated." Harry snorted a laugh; Ken grinned in response, then let his face go solemn. "I've heard about some of the things you've gone through since you started Hogwarts. Given that not one of your first four years have been remotely uneventful, I don't expect this one to break the mold, and I do think that little badge and the duties that go with it would start to overwhelm you."

"So you don't think I could handle it?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. "I've handled a lot more than Ron and Hermione put together; if anyone could deal with the stress, it's me, right?"

Ken smiled a little. "Maybe," he said quietly. "It's not that you couldn't handle it; it's that there are a hundred more things going on right now that are more important than docking points from students you've caught in empty classrooms or broom cupboards."

Harry sighed heavily, looking across the room to where Ron was still arguing with his brothers. "It'd be nice just to feel normal for a change," he said in a low voice, "without having to worry about people trying to kill me."

Ken reached over and patted Harry on the shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Well, if you ask me," he said just as quietly, "being normal is just as overrated as being a prefect."

Harry cracked a smile. Encouraged, Ken went on. "I mean, look around the kitchen," he moved his arm around, gesturing at the people before them, "not one of them is even remotely normal; we've got Arthur Weasley, our resident Muggle aficionado; Nymphadora Tonks, the only person I've ever met that could make herself look like everyone _she's_ ever met and break an ankle attempting it; Remus Lupin... well, we both know about Remus' little problem."

A snicker escaped Harry. "_Little_ problem?"

"Poetic license." Ken waved an airy hand. "There's your dear godfather, of course... Mad-Eye Moody, who would curse a housefly if it came too near and he believed it was buzzing sinisterly. Then there's me, who hasn't had a normal day since the day I was born. Got any more concerns about being normal?"

"Not really." Harry scratched the back of his neck. "I still think I could've handled it, but I might be wrong."

"You might," Ken agreed. "And think about it this way, Harry. While Ron and Hermione are busy with patrols and prefect meetings, you get to stay behind in your common room and pass the time with something much more interesting."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said, a grin sprouting on his face that told the older wizard he'd at least made some headway in cheering him up. Ken opened his mouth to say something, but Molly was now announcing it was bedtime, ignoring all the groans from her children about how they weren't the least bit tired yet. Harry rolled his eyes at Ken, hesitating again as he followed his friends up the stairs. "Er," he said awkwardly. "Thanks."

Ken winked. "Don't mention it, Harry," he said. "Sleep well." His eyes followed the kids out of the kitchen before he turned to the others, finding Sirius staring at him, an ugly look on his face. Deciding he'd much rather avoid an altercation with the other wizard, Ken drained his goblet and headed up the stairs.

* * *

Remus was walking down to the kitchen very late the next night, unable to sleep and resigning himself to reading through some of the reports Tonks had brought by from the Ministry. His hope was that reading repetitively worded documents and perhaps a cup of hot chocolate might allow sleep to overtake him. As he approached the library, he raised an eyebrow at the light shining through the cracked doors—he was certain that he'd shut the lights off when he'd finished in there much earlier in the night.

_Is Hermione having trouble sleeping too?_

His hand was on the door, preparing to push it open, when he heard a voice which certainly did not belong to Hermione Granger.

"I'm his godfather," Sirius was hissing. "I'll be the one to tell him about those things!"

Remus shifted his line of sight and spotted the person Sirius was apparently arguing with; he was actively unsurprised to see Ken leaning against the sofa, arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles. In contrast to Sirius' angry glare, Ken remained completely composed, perhaps even a bit bored. "Kind of difficult to tell him about anything when you're holed up in your mummy's room, isn't it?" he said mildly, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius' wand was out and pointed at Ken before anybody could blink. "Say that again," he threatened in a growl.

Ken uncrossed his arms and legs, pushing himself off the sofa and moving forward until the tip of Sirius' wand touched his chest. "I think you heard me clearly enough," he retorted quietly. Remus hesitated outside the door, uncertain if intervention would make the situation better or worse. But the conversation was beginning to sound familiar, even if Remus couldn't quite place _why_...

"You know, Sirius," Ken went on, "you sit here day in and day out whining about how miserable your life is and how you're a horrible friend to Remus and an even worse godfather to Harry. But you never do a goddamned thing to make any of it any better."

Remus' eyebrows shot up, something in Ken's words clicking in his mind.

"You're right, you're Harry's godfather, which makes it only fitting that you should be the one setting his mind at ease and giving him advice, but since you can't get off your mopy arse to do any of that, I thought somebody should." Ken lowered his head to shoot a glare of his own at Sirius. "If you really want to be Harry's godfather, I suggest you do it before he starts seeing you as this pathetic, whining drunk the rest already see."

Both Sirius and Remus were stunned into open-mouthed silence, but Remus was certain their shock was for very different reasons. Ken pushed Sirius' wand aside and stalked away; Remus ducked into the shadows of the nearest cross-corridor as Ken yanked open the door and headed for his bedroom. Once he had his breath back, Remus left Sirius to stare at nothing while he continued to the kitchen, one of his largest suspicions confirmed.

* * *

**AN:** So, thoughts? Is Ken overstepping his bounds with Harry, or is Sirius just too sulky? Hope you're enjoying thus far; please review. More coming as soon as I can manage!


	6. Six

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Six_

The morning of 1 September started out hectic. Remus was awakened at half past seven by Molly yelling at one of the children over something; he hadn't been awake enough to decipher what. Resigned to not getting back to sleep for any length of time after last night's stake out mission with Tonks, which had ended sometime around four in the morning, he got up, dressed, and fought his way past the Weasleys running back and forth between rooms searching for books, lost socks, and other apparently important necessary items.

In the kitchen, Sirius was leaning back in his chair with a sullen look on his face as he watched Molly bustle about to make breakfast. Remus knew what had brought on this mood: Dumbledore had informed him that he was absolutely not to leave Number Twelve that day, not even in his Animagus form, to help escort the children to the school train. Sirius' expression darkened significantly when Molly began to remind him of Dumbledore's orders. Rather than subject all of the house to what would certainly be a screaming match, Remus intervened before Sirius could retort.

"Molly, why don't you make sure the children are getting ready; I'll take care of breakfast," he said quickly, shooting Sirius a _don't even start_ look.

Molly looked rather confused by the suggestion. Her response was drowned out by a dull _thud_ somewhere above them followed by the screams of Mrs. Black's portrait. Molly sighed resignedly and nodded her agreement to Remus' suggestion. She hurried out of the kitchen, closing the door behind her and muffling the noise in the hall. Remus took up stirring the porridge, flipping the bacon, and assuring the toast and eggs didn't burn for a few moments before glancing over his shoulder at Sirius. "It's for your safety, you know," he said quietly.

Sirius snorted loudly. "As if I can't protect myself!" he snapped. "It's not like we're walking into the Ministry of Magic..."

Remus sighed heavily as he put more toast in the toaster. He was starting to get a sense of déjà vu as Sirius started in on the same conversation they'd been having for more than six months. "No, we're not going to the Ministry," he said with strained patience. "But what do you think the chances are that Peter hasn't told Voldemort and every Death Eater he's come into contact with all about your Animagus form?" Sirius growled. "This isn't a game, Sirius, no more than it's some adventure we went on as children. It's not just your neck on the line; it's the entire Order, not to mention Harry."

The other wizard bristled. "You think I don't know that?" he shouted. "I know exactly what's at stake, Remus!"

"I don't think you do!" Remus shouted back, finally losing his temper. "I know this hasn't been easy on you, but you're not doing anything to improve the situation." He was getting déjà vu again, this time due to a conversation he'd overheard a few nights before. By the ugly look on Sirius' face, his friend was recalling the same thing. Remus sighed again. "The last thing any of us wants to see is you being dragged back to Azkaban. And unfortunately, for now, the only way to assure that we _don't_ see that happening is for you to remain hidden."

Sirius huffed and looked away. "Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "You get to get out and suck in a bit of fresh air while I'm stuck here listening to Kreacher mutter about what a disappointment I was to my family."

"I always thought that was something you took pride in," Remus said, his lips quirking in amusement.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I heard you and Tonks talking, you know," he said dully. Remus' eyebrows shot up. "About that little mission Dumbledore wants you to go on after you take the kids to the train..."

"Ah," Remus said in realization, inwardly wincing; he'd meant to tell Sirius about the assignment before now, but every time he started to bring it up, something else managed to take hold of his attention. "I won't be gone long, if that's what you're concerned about."

"Maybe not, but with the kids gone, Molly and Arthur have no reason to stay. You're doing work for Dumbledore. Tonks and Kingsley work..."

Remus gave his friend a sympathetic smile. Though his newest brooding attitude said differently, the one thing Sirius Black hated most was being alone. Since his escape from Azkaban, it had become much more pronounced. "Would it make you feel any better to know what I'm doing?"

Sirius made some grunt of acknowledgment.

"Kingsley got word of some strange bit of magic and he's asked me to investigate."

This piqued Sirius' attention. "What kind of magic?"

Remus shrugged. "Don't know," he replied, starting to fill plates with food. "He described it as a tear of some sort, though what that means, I haven't the foggiest."

"Where at?"

"Southern part of the country," Remus said, floating his and Sirius' plates to the table and going to sit. "He's going to give me the coordinates later this morning."

Sirius' brow was furrowed. "And why is he asking you to do it rather than passing it onto an Auror?" he asked slowly.

"Because the Ministry refuses to believe what is right in front of its face," Remus replied dully. "They're brushing this off as nothing, just as they have every other strange occurrence since June. Rufus Scrimgeour is the only one who seems to have any interest in it, but even he isn't all that bothered to have it properly investigated. The information passed Kingsley's desk, he passed it on to Dumbledore, and I'm the only available Order member right now."

For a moment, Remus expected Sirius to argue that he was available and quite willing to help out, but his friend had fallen into a pensive mood, only broken by the sight and smell of breakfast. "Ken's free, isn't he?"

Remus ignored the bitterness in his friend's voice, as well as every thought he'd had about Ken Revold in the last several days. "Apparently not," Remus finally responded thickly through his eggs. "I think Dumbledore has given him some assignment that's going to keep him out of the house for a while—I spotted him packing his trunk, at any rate."

"Packing his trunk?" Sirius asked dully.

"Yes." Remus hesitated a little. "I wondered if it was something to do with the argument the two of you had the other night."

Sirius' fork froze halfway to his mouth. "Heard that, did you?" he muttered. Remus nodded, even though Sirius was too busy staring at the table to see it. "And did you think he was right?"

Remus snorted a humorless laugh, causing Sirius to look up at him. "Do you really want my answer to that?" he asked wryly.

"S'pose not," Sirius responded. He sighed heavily and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "I'm not even sure how I'm alive this morning... I think I'll go up and see if I can't find a hangover cure before the kids leave..."

Remus only had a chance to raise an eyebrow as Sirius transformed into his Animagus form and headed up the staircase. _Whatever makes him happy, _he thought, continuing with his breakfast.

* * *

Upstairs in the drawing room, Ken looked on in amusement as the Weasley twins tried to stuff all their experimental pranks into their trunks and leave enough room for their robes, books, and other school supplies. He was just about to suggest a handy, little known spell that expanded the inside of trunks without increasing the weight of said trunk when a black furry head stuck itself in through the gap of the door.

Smirking a little, deciding he needed a little amusement in his life, even if it was on Sirius' behalf, he called for the attention of Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, the latter four working on yanking their belongings out from between cushions of the sofa. The sofa was putting up an impressive defense.

"If I can direct your attention to the door," he said with a grin, ignoring the look of severe annoyance on the dog's face, "I'd like to quickly give all of you a lesson on why you should never drink too much." He waved his wand to open the door and added a spell to give Sirius' Animagus form a gentle kick in the behind. The dog growled in response, but stumbled into the room anyway.

"You'll notice the reddened eyes—this is most likely a result of ridding oneself of every bit of food one has ever ingested in one's life. Though it is not obvious, the victim continues to suffer painful headaches. The low sounds of mingled pain and rage are characteristic. Researchers have been unable to discover if the rage is self-directed or outward, but..." He quickly ducked as Sirius transformed back into his human form to throw a pillow at him. "Outward seems likely."

"Sod off," Sirius growled, turning from the room and the laughter of the teenagers. "Don't have anything better to do than laugh at me, Revold?"

Ken only grinned. "You bring it on yourself, Black," he said lightly, moving towards the door and speaking so the children couldn't hear. "No hard feelings from the other night, right?"

Sirius grunted some indiscernible answer and turned away, continuing on his way down the hall. Ken sighed before turning back to Fred and George's continued battle with their trunks.

* * *

Stepping through the barrier of Platform 9 ¾, Remus glanced around, his hand wrapped tightly around his wand in his jacket pocket, unsure what he expected to see, but on guard nonetheless. He stepped away from the barrier just as Ron and Hermione came through, followed closely by sniggering Weasley twins and Ginny. Molly rounded out the first group, gave Remus a tight-lipped smile, and proceeded to shepherd the children towards the train.

Remus remained beside the barrier until Tonks stepped through followed by Ken pushing Harry's trunk and owl cage—the boy himself became visible seconds later along with a large black dog Remus hadn't seen leave Number Twelve with the rest of the group. He raised his eyebrows at the dog, receiving a canine grin in return, but didn't have a chance to comment when Mad-Eye arrived.

"Bloody idiot," the retired Auror grumbled, his magical eye hidden beneath a bowler hat. This was supposed to make his appearance less disturbing to Muggles, but Remus thought it only called attention to the rest of the wizard's mangled body. "Tried to tell him to stay behind..."

Remus sighed as Mad-Eye led the way to the rest of the group. "I had the same argument with him last night; he won't listen to sense, especially when it comes to Harry."

Mad-Eye made some sort of grunt in agreement, now looking around the platform for hidden dangers, leaving Remus to head over to see what Harry was laughing about. As it turned out, Sirius was chasing a bird around the area, much to the amusement of everyone.

"Right," Remus said loudly when the train whistled to let them know it would be departing soon. "Have a good term." He spoke mostly to Harry, as the Weasleys and Hermione were occupied with Molly. "We'll see you at Christmas."

Harry smiled and nodded as he shook Remus' hand. He began to reply when Sirius stood up on his hind legs, his front paws on the boy's shoulder. "Honestly, Padfoot," Remus hissed as Sirius backed away from his laughing godson. "You could act a little more like a dog..."

Sirius merely gave him a look Remus interpreted as _where's the fun in that?_ but sat down and allowed the kids to rub his head as they passed.

"I guess I'll be off as well," announced a cheerful voice from Remus' left. He glanced over to find Ken carrying the end of a trunk. The werewolf looked at him in confusion, as did the rest of the Order. "Oh, didn't I mention?" He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. "Dumbledore was having a bit of trouble finding anyone willing to take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts post this year—"

"Can't imagine why," Mad-Eye interjected, glancing at Remus.

"—and to avoid the Ministry from getting involved in places they really shouldn't, he asked me to take it," Ken finished.

Though his surprise at this announcement equaled that of the rest of the Order members on the platform, Remus didn't allow his mind to question why the Ministry would get involved at Hogwarts at all; something else had taken over rather quickly, something much more troubling than what was going on at Hogwarts. Though he'd kept quiet his thoughts a few nights ago when he'd overheard Sirius and Ken arguing, he'd spent the time since confirming his theories, and he felt a sudden unease about Ken taking over the jinxed teaching position at Hogwarts.

"Er, are you sure you want to do that?" he asked cautiously. "You do know that position is... er..." He struggled to find the correct phrasing.

Ken was grinning. "Cursed?" he asked. "Yeah, I did hear that. Can't be that bad, though, can it?"

Remus exchanged a glance with Mad-Eye, but neither wizard commented.

"I'll be off, then," Ken told them. "Sure I'll be seeing you lot soon, for one thing or another..." He gave them a wink, allowed Molly to give him a hug as she instructed him not to take anything from Fred and George this year, and headed off towards the train. Harry and Ron hauled the wizard's trunk into their carriage, then Harry helped Ken up and closed the door.

Remus looked down as he heard a menacing growl somewhere around his knees. He found Sirius staring directly at Ken, hackles raised and teeth bared. "Knock it off," Remus muttered, gently kicking the dog in his hindquarters, causing Sirius to turn and growl at him until Remus raised his eyebrows in a silent reprimand. Within minutes, the train was disappearing around a corner, leaving the Order to work out what had just happened and what the coming year might bring.

Forcing himself away from this line of thinking, Remus sighed and looked around the platform, realizing that most families had Apparated away rather quickly, leaving only the Order and a few stragglers behind. He was shocked Mad-Eye hadn't caused a fuss about this until he found the retired Auror had already gone himself. At his feet, Sirius was staring broodingly at where the Hogwarts Express had disappeared and Remus found himself with the sudden need to break both himself and Sirius out of the horrible moods they'd found themselves in recently, mostly caused by the black dog on the platform.

"Come on, Padfoot, we're going out for a while," Remus said quietly. The dog looked up at him quizzically, as did Molly and Tonks, the only two members of the Order who remained after Mad-Eye's departure. "I'll clear it up later." Though Molly's lips pursed as though she very much wanted to remind Remus of Sirius' orders to remain indoors, werewolf and dog Disapparated before she could get a word out.

* * *

He couldn't sleep.

This was a common occurrence these days, but it still frustrated him to no end. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a full night's sleep—1981 came to mind—and he would have given just about anything just to rest his mind and body for a few hours.

Nightmares were the cause of his chronic insomnia, flashes of memories and events that he could swear had only happened days ago. And it wasn't as though he felt tired; no matter how much sleep he lost, his energy level remained higher than he thought possible. Not to mention all the time spent lying in bed, staring at the ceiling provided him with ample time to sort through his problems, even if the solutions were highly unlikely to actually solve anything...

With a heavy sigh, Ken Revold rolled over and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He looked around his new surroundings, still feeling mild shock that he was here at all. The night before the new Hogwarts term began, Albus Dumbledore had arrived at Number Twelve and sought him out, locating him in the library long after the rest of the house had gone to sleep and presenting him with the strangest request he'd heard in months: Dumbledore had asked him to take the open teaching post at Hogwarts. Ken had merely stared at the old man's sparkling eyes and twitching lips for several minutes before finally allowing himself to share in the Headmaster's amusement.

Dumbledore's reasons for Ken's latest assignment were numerous: following the events on the night the Order had retrieved Harry from his relatives' home, he felt it necessary to place Ken somewhere he would not be tempted to take on several Death Eaters on his own, to ensure his own safety, of course; Hogwarts needed as many members of the Order as possible within the castle, people who knew the truth about Lord Voldemort, should danger arrive at the castle gates, or should Harry and his friends find the need to get themselves into trouble again; and finally, if Ken didn't take the position, it was entirely probable Dolores Umbridge would be placed there in his stead.

Though Dumbledore had made light of the suggestion that Ken join the Hogwarts staff, they both knew the situation was anything but. Even if they ignored the fact that the Ministry so distrusted Dumbledore and anybody suspected of being in league with him, or that Lord Voldemort was silently putting deadly plans into action, it was becoming more and more difficult for Ken to keep his secrets. Remus, he believed, had caught on at some point in the last week, though he'd yet to confront Ken with his suspicions. Sirius, if he hadn't been so focused on the misery that currently was his life, probably could have sussed out the truth as well.

Ken wasn't sure how he would react should Sirius and Remus fully learn the truth. On the one hand, he'd welcome the chance to be able to stop the lies he'd been forced to tell, to finally attempt some semblance of a normal life. But on the other hand, he really had no idea how to go about facing his truths; he'd worked desperately to push his memories of the past as far back in his mind as they'd go. The very idea of stirring up old thoughts and emotions was painful, even if he knew having two more people who weren't elderly know-it-all Headmasters might help him work through everything that had happened.

And then there was Harry.

Ken couldn't help but laugh a little at the thought of the boy and everything he'd been through in his young life. Harry had, miraculously, allowed Ken into his life, let the older wizard get to know him a bit, even if he did remain guarded. It was true that the last thing Ken wanted was to interfere in the relationship Harry had with his godfather, especially since that relationship had only begun a little over a year ago. He only wished Sirius would open his eyes and realize how incredibly lucky he was to have Harry's love and respect...

Ken approached the windows in the teacher's quarters overlooking the Hogwarts Lake. Being here brought with it several opportunities that he never would have had otherwise, all of which could either turn several lives around for the better, or destroy them completely. Everything had to be handled delicately, something he'd never been talented in doing, having lacked the patience it required; he preferred the straightforward, instant gratification approach.

_Things have changed_, he reminded himself. _And not necessarily for the better. I just have to be thankful I've got this chance at all. _

_

* * *

_

The front door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place opened and Nymphadora Tonks silently entered, her mind distracted enough that her feet even forgot the ritual trip over the troll leg umbrella stand. She continued on the path to the basement kitchen without a second thought, knowing she'd find one of the people she needed to speak with there, if not both, and she really needed to get this out...

Though as she started down the steep staircase, both hands automatically clenching the banisters on either side of her, she started to second-guess her reasons for visiting.

_If I'm wrong,_ she thought,_ I'm going to look like a bigger bloody idiot than normal. And it's not as though I've got any tangible proof..._

_Trust your instincts, girl!_ Mad-Eye's voice responded almost immediately. _There's a reason you make such a good Auror, even if you can trip over air. And the Order trusts your instincts; why shouldn't you?_

_Because the Order doesn't realize how often I've been wrong about something like this..._

Nevertheless, she continued towards the kitchen and cautiously opened the door, finding the house's owner predictably sitting alone in front of the fireplace with half a bottle of firewhiskey loosely held at his side. She sighed a little, silently cursing the Ministry for putting him through what they had and leaving this pathetic shell of the carefree cousin she'd known in her childhood. Conjuring what little bit of cheer she had considering what had been weighing on her mind, she fully entered the room, wondering if he had fallen asleep since he'd yet to realize she'd arrived.

"Wotcher, Sirius," she said brightly.

Her lips twitched at how high he jumped at the sound of her voice and the startled look on his face as he turned to look at her. She fought not to wince away from the deadened look in his eyes as he banished it and replaced it with the sparkle he mustered when company arrived. "Evening, cousin!" he boomed, holding up his bottle of whiskey in greeting. "Care for a drop?"

"A small one," she responded, crossing the room and sinking into a chair beside him as he conjured another glass, pouring her a much more generous amount than she'd requested.

"What news of the outside world?" Sirius asked lightly. Tonks had learned rather quickly to read behind the tones her cousin used—under the lightness and carelessness, she could sense bitterness and a tinge of desperation.

"Nothing interesting," she said regretfully, looking around the room. "Where's Remus?"

Sirius smirked, a look that took a decade off his aged, wasted face. "And here I was thinking you'd come to keep me company, when in fact, you're seeking out our resident lanky lycanthrope."

"Shut it," she muttered, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm only asking because I wanted to talk to the both of you—"

"Not sure three wouldn't be a crowd—" Sirius interrupted with a grin.

She glared. "—but if he isn't here, you'll do, I suppose."

"Right." Sirius looked away, a smug expression on his face that she rolled her eyes at, regardless of the heat rising in her cheeks. "Well, dear Remus is out on assignment for Dumbledore. Haven't heard from him since he left and don't expect that to change until his return. He's got this nasty habit of getting so wrapped up in what he's doing that he forgets the rest of the world exists..." The smugness was replaced with a bitter look. "Anyway, what have you come to discuss?"

Tonks hesitated. It was quite obvious her cousin was in one of his brooding moods, no matter how he tried to hide it with teasing, and it probably wasn't the best idea to bring something like this into the equation when she wasn't even sure of it herself. Unfortunately for her, and consequentially everyone around her, she rarely did what the _best thing_ may be. "I wanted to run a theory by you," she said slowly. Sirius sat up a little straighter in his chair, looking eager to be included in something even though he wore the usual haughty, careless expression he had perfected. "It's going to sound a little weird..."

Sirius laughed. "Tonksie, I assure you, the weirder the better," he told her, and ducked her automatic swipe at the ancient nickname. "What's up?"

She took a deep breath and a gulp of whiskey to fortify her nerves before setting the glass aside and leaning forward on the table. "When I started at Hogwarts," she began, "I used to people watch a lot. I'd sit on the grounds and just look around for a while, trying to figure out why certain people did certain things—it had a tendency to be pretty amusing at times, especially when Snape was in one of his moods." Sirius chuckled into his glass. "Anyway, as the years went on, though it didn't work all the time, and never on demand, I was able to sort of see if people were... hiding something."

Sirius blinked several times, his brow furrowed in drunken confusion. "What, like if they were lying... or...?"

"Not exactly," she said quickly, suddenly feeling like an idiot for even bring this up. "More like if they were under a disguise. It's not something totally obvious, not like I can see an aura around them or a shadow of their hidden identity. They just look... different, I guess."

"Different how?" he asked quietly.

She sighed in slight frustration, mostly aimed at herself. "It's difficult to explain. I always wondered if it came from being a Metamorphmagus, being able to shape shift at will that I can tell if someone else can as well. I think I noticed it first in McGonagall, long before I knew she was an Animagus. Later I noticed it in a few other people if I was in Diagon Alley or somewhere like that. During Auror training, I was the only person who could correctly identify somebody under Polyjuice Potion without speaking to them." She took a very deep breath. "I noticed it the night I joined the Order, when I met you again, and Remus." She paused, adding an afterthought, "Though I guess that throws the shifting at will thing out the window, since I know he dreads his transformation."

"Leaves in just plain shifting, though..." Sirius shook his head. "Sorry. Carry on."

"Right." Tonks took another sip of her drink. "Anyway, I noticed it in somebody else in the Order as well." This was the part she was dreading speaking of since her arrival. "Like I said, it doesn't happen every time that I notice these things. More often than not, actually, I don't notice it. In fact, I only noticed it last week when we were on duty and I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me because I hadn't been sleeping very much with double shifts for the Ministry and the Order back-to-back."

"You're rambling," Sirius commented mildly. "What did you notice?"

"Right," she said again. "I was on duty with Ken when it happened. We were doing rounds up in Wiltshire; Kingsley overheard Lucius Malfoy talking about some meeting with Broderick Bode... There was something... _off_ about Ken that night, Sirius. Like he was disguised, even though I know he can't possibly be; Mad-Eye would see right through it, so would Dumbledore. And Remus is always so vigilant I wonder if he and Mad-Eye aren't somehow related..."

Sirius seemed to ignore her continued ramblings. "You think Ken is under some sort of disguise?" he asked. "Maybe he's an Animagus?"

"I don't know," she said regretfully, her frustration returning tenfold. "Maybe, but I think it's more than that even; I just can't put my finger on it..."

Sirius sank back into his chair and drained his firewhiskey glass. "You'd think Dumbledore would have learned his lesson with that mess with Mad-Eye last year," he said broodingly. "And Ken's gotten so cozy around my godson..." Tonks had a moment of panic when she thought Sirius might get out of his chair and Floo to Hogwarts to confront Ken. He remained seated. "Anybody else know about this?"

She shook her head. "You're the first I've told. That's why I was hoping to talk to Remus as well; I thought either you or he might have one of those insights that have been eluding me..."

The wizard across from the table began to nod. "Don't tell anyone else about this," he said suddenly. "Just until I've had a chance to talk to Moony. He's supposed to be back this weekend."

"Right..." Tonks said for the third time, more doubtfully than before.

Sirius shot her a quick smile and poured them another pair of drinks. "Don't worry," he said lightly, "I'm not going to do anything rash..."

She pretended not to hear the muttered rider of "At least not yet."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry it's been so long since the last update. My muse has been in an odd mood lately and doesn't want to concentrate on anything that I actually want to write. Please review!


	7. Seven

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Seven_

Nearly three weeks had passed since the start of term at Hogwarts. Most of the student body had deemed Defense Against the Dark Arts to be their favorite class—even a few Slytherins had been overheard whispering their approval of the lesson plans—and nobody was more surprised about this development than Ken Revold. He'd started the term completely uncertain as to what he could bring to the classroom that would both give the students the tools they needed to survive the upcoming wizarding war and keep their interests.

Taking from lesson plans of both Remus and Mad-Eye Moody, he'd arranged several very hands-on lessons both within the castle and out, all of which were met with enthusiasm by the students. An obstacle course had been setup on the grounds that helped shape up their dueling skills. Ken had even arranged it so that with a wave of his wand, the difficulty level would change, allowing all the students from seventh year N.E.W.T classes to first years could safely maneuver the course and still be challenged. During rainy days or days when other professors had taken their lessons out onto the grounds, Ken taught the students defensive jinxes, things he knew would be useful in the coming years.

Hogwarts gave Ken a sense of peace in a way he hadn't had in years. He'd finally started relaxing a bit, enjoying himself, and when classes weren't in session, he could concentrate on the things he needed done. Several solutions had popped into his mind, but none of them were the least bit practical, however fun they may have been to imagine. He would have happily allowed somebody's second opinion, but of course to allow somebody in on his thoughts would mean revealing things he wasn't yet ready to make public.

As he finished changing up the sixth years' obstacle course before heading back to London for an Order meeting, Ken's eyes caught movement out of the corners. He straightened up, careful to keep his legs out of reach of the very annoyed kappa he'd placed in the swamp area of the course to distract the students from incoming jinxes, and immediately located a form running down the entrance stairs to the castle and heading off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Ken raised an eyebrow, recognizing the form to be Draco Malfoy; the Slytherin boy looked over his shoulder every few steps as he moved across the grounds. At half past seven, Draco wasn't breaking any curfew rules, but any student who seemed so determined to keep from being seen couldn't be up anything good.

Finalizing the spells on the obstacle course, Ken pointed his wand towards Dumbledore's office and sent his patronus to inform the Headmaster he would be running a little late for the Order meeting due to some complications with his lesson planning. As he carefully began to follow Draco Malfoy's path towards the forest, he was unable to figure out why he didn't just tell Dumbledore a student was wandering out of bounds and he was going after him; the only excuse he had for himself was that for the last several months, Albus Dumbledore had been the only person he'd confided anything to, and for once he wanted to keep something to himself, at least until he knew more about it.

The sun was beginning to set as Draco reached the trees of the forest. Once more, he glanced over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed—Ken quickly ducked behind a tree and cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself—and continued to wherever he was headed. They walked for ages, further than most Hogwarts students would dare venture, and Ken's uneasiness only increased—what could Draco possibly be up to that he had to come this far into the forest? Every once in a while, Draco stopped in his tracks when he heard a sound; he looked around, pointing his wand in the direction from which the sound had come, seemed to shrug it off, and walked on. Ken kept his wand at the ready as well, prepared to defend the boy against anything that might ambush him—Lucius Malfoy's son or not, Ken knew it was his responsibility to ensure Draco came to no harm, even if he would be put in detention for the next three months for wandering out of bounds.

Eventually, it seemed Draco had reached his destination. The tip of his wand lit, the boy looked around the tiny, pitch black clearing, searching for something. Careful not to make too much noise, Ken placed himself close enough to the boy to keep an eye on him, but far enough away to keep watch for danger. Draco eventually sat down on a moss covered rock, his feet tapping nervously as he waited expectantly.

Draco's patience was finally rewarded: Both wizards' heads turned as they began to hear footsteps coming through the brush and trees, approaching them rapidly. The boy stood from his rock slowly, his eyes locked on a spot between the trees where Ken could see another lit wand making its way towards them. Ken kept a tight hold on his own wand, his heart racing as he waited for the person to reveal himself. A man finally stepped out of the trees, one Ken didn't recognize, though Draco seemed to know him immediately; the boy's wand arm dropped to his side and he visibly relaxed a great deal.

"You're late," Draco muttered, attempting to adopt his arrogant attitude.

The man, who was quite unremarkable and who Ken wouldn't remember in normal circumstances, turned a cold look on Draco. "As I told your father, I am not at anyone's beck and call, boy," he said icily. Draco gulped as his eyes darted around the clearing, away from the man's gaze. "You have what was requested?"

"Yes," Draco replied, reaching into a rucksack and removing what looked to be a sheaf of parchment. "Wasn't easy to get a hold of."

"Wasn't meant to be," muttered the wizard, taking the parchment out of Draco's hands and looking it over. Draco stood shuffling as he waited to be dismissed, looking more nervous as the minutes dragged on.

The wizard finally nodded in satisfaction, carefully stashing away the documents Draco had delivered. "Your success and promptness will be noted," he said, his tone a little less cold than at the beginning of the meeting. "The next assignment will be delivered by owl within the next few days. You have a fortnight to obtain the requested information and will return to this location at this time for the delivery. Is that understood?"

Draco nodded, looking torn between nervousness and the desire to be annoyed at being ordered around.

"Return to the school before you are missed." Without another word, the wizard turned around and left the way he came, leaving Draco to stare after him.

Draco spent several minutes muttering things about the wizard he'd just met, but Ken had stopped paying attention. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy had just met with a Death Eater. The reason for the meeting—the delivery of some sort of documented information—was still unclear, but that seemed to be the least important thing about the encounter. Draco had contact with Death Eaters. He was going to meet with another one, or perhaps the same one, in two weeks' time. Excitement was building in Ken's body as plans formulated themselves, plans that, if carried out perfectly, could change everything.

When his mind forced him back to reality, he realized Draco had already left and was several yards ahead of him in his return to the castle. Ken didn't want to get ahead of himself in his plans—one wrong move and everything would fail—so he managed to set aside his thoughts and hurried back to Hogwarts behind the boy who would become the key to the plan's success.

* * *

In the drawing room of Number Twelve, several Order members had arrived early for the meeting to have a few drinks and muse about what they would be discussing in a few hours' time. Sirius sat on the sofa, listening as Kingsley and Tonks described to the rest of them how Rufus Scrimgeour had been questioning them about their dealings with Albus Dumbledore. The two Aurors had managed to convince their superior of their allegiance to Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry of Magic, but they were still being watched rather closely.

"It doesn't help that we're showing up to work exhausted after all night guard duty for the Order," Tonks said, punctuating her statement with a large yawn.

"Moony's doing the assignment schedules," Sirius told his cousin. "I'll have him go a little easier on you."

"That's not the problem," Kingsley objected. "It's the fact that whatever we tell Scrimgeour, the Ministry remains suspicious of us, and all they can do until they have proof, is punish us by putting us on the longest, most dreaded shifts."

"Even you?" Sirius asked in surprise. "Thought they had you off on the continent searching for me under sinister looking rocks?"

Kingsley snorted a laugh. "They do. But since I haven't had any luck in locating you," he gave Sirius a look that caused the other wizard to smirk, "they're starting to wonder if I've lost my touch. There's been talk about assigning me a partner."

"What partner?" came a sharp voice from the door. They all turned to find Remus entering the room carrying a cup of tea, looking rather bothered by their discussion.

"Don't really know at this point," Kingsley said as Remus took a seat beside Sirius' sofa. "Some people are talking Dawlish, some are saying Scrimgeour himself—"

Tonks snorted her own laugh. "If they can get Scrimgeour out of his office longer than it takes to get a cup of coffee or to yell at the rest of us about how inept we are at our jobs, I'll run naked through the Ministry as Dolores Umbridge."

All three wizards took a moment to give Tonks a look that plainly told her there would be retribution if they had nightmares over that image. "Either way," Remus said, still looking vaguely ill, "if Kingsley is taken off Sirius' case, we could be in trouble."

"I wouldn't worry about that just yet," Kingsley assured him calmly. "All I need is a few well placed leads and I'll be safe."

"For now," Sirius muttered darkly.

The four of them sat in a tense silence for some time, unable to reassure Sirius his safety wasn't in question—he could only imagine the conversation he and Remus would be having after the Order meeting. If Sirius thought Dumbledore and Remus were prison wardens before with their unyielding arguments that he was not to leave the house under any circumstances, it could only get worse from there.

The front door creaked open, announcing the arrival of other Order members. Remus immediately finished off his tea and stood, announcing he was going to help set up for the meeting. Kingsley followed. Sirius remained where he was, staring at the fireplace broodingly until he realized he wasn't the last one left in the room.

"Have you talked to Remus yet?"

Sirius was startled out of his thoughts, but looked up to find Tonks' dark eyes studying him carefully. It took him a moment to figure out what she was referring to until he recalled the conversation they had had a few weeks back, the one in which Tonks had shared her suspicions about Ken Revold. "Not yet," Sirius finally replied with a sigh. "He's been a bit preoccupied since he got back and with the full moon so near, it's best to hold off on things like that."

Tonks nodded in understanding and the two cousins made their way down the stairs. "Remus never did say what he found out while he was gone..." the witch said leadingly.

"That's because whatever he found out confused him to the point that he doesn't know what to say about it," Sirius told her. "He's spent the time since he got back huddled over books, trying to make sense of it. He's going to report his findings at the meeting tonight."

When they arrived in the kitchen, most of the Order was assembled around the kitchen table while Molly Weasley bustled about the room, fixing tea and snacks, and telling Remus how terribly thin he was.

"He's always been a twig, Molly," Sirius announced, sitting beside his friend with a grin. "That high, werewolf metabolism of his. It makes him able to eat enough chocolate that a normal person would overdose, and still leaves him ample room for pudding."

"And yet, I always knew when to stop eating," Remus shot back with his own grin. "I can't tell you the number of times we'd snuck down to the kitchens for food and the next morning, _someone,"_ his eyes darted to Sirius, "would be too sick to move out of his bed." His brow furrowed in thought and possibly a little disgust. "Not that one was able to get near that someone without stepping in vomit."

"There's a lovely image," Kingsley muttered to himself.

"Much nicer than the one where Umbridge is running naked around the Ministry," Sirius muttered back. Eyebrows rose around the table—Arthur choked on his tea while Sturgis' jaw dropped open and Mundungus Fletcher looked between his pipe and Sirius, perhaps wondering if what he'd just heard had been part of a hallucination.

Just as Emmeline opened her mouth to question when this had occurred, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Mad-Eye entered the room; Sirius couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the interruption—he really had no desire to reopen that particular discussion. Within half an hour, the rest of the Order had arrived and Dumbledore had begun the meeting. Most of the members employed at the Ministry stood and gave their reports about the rumors they'd heard in their department since the last meeting or about how Fudge and his advisors were cracking down on anybody they found to be in league with Dumbledore.

From the sound of it, Sirius could almost understand how it was that Fudge couldn't believe Lord Voldemort had returned: He was so blind to the blatantly obvious, like when Ministry employees who also belonged to the Order were lying to his face, that he just couldn't see the truth. There was no open-mindedness in Fudge's Ministry, not like there was in Bagnold's before Sirius was taken to Azkaban. It was dangerous. Possibly more dangerous than Voldemort himself operating in secrecy. Fudge had no idea that what he was doing was stepping aside and allowing Voldemort to regain the power he maintained throughout the first war.

A chair scraped against the floor beside him and Sirius turned to find Remus standing, shuffling a few of his papers as he began to speak. "As I'm sure most of you are aware," Remus began, looking around the table, "Albus asked me a few weeks back to investigate an unusual amount of magical energy down south. I spent ten days tracking down the origin of the magic and finally located it about ten miles outside Godric's Hollow." Sirius' eyes widened and he straightened up in his chair to listen more carefully. "I wish I could say that I discovered the reason for this magic, but unfortunately, I was unable to do so. What I can tell you, however, is that Voldemort and the Death Eaters are very much aware of it—this has been confirmed by Severus." Remus nodded to a corner of the kitchen where Snape sat in the shadows.

"Were you able to determine whether it was light or dark magic?" asked Tonks when Remus paused to take a sip of his wine.

"I'm not sure which it was," Remus said quietly. "Normally, it's a rather simple thing to discover, but this time, every test I conducted came back undeterminable."

"That in itself should suggest it's dark magic, don't you think?" Bill Weasley asked from his mother's side.

Remus shook his head. "Not necessarily," he said lightly. "There are many types of magic that could be either light or dark, depending on its use. Until we figure out what this particular type of magic actually did, I'm afraid we just won't know."

"Can you describe the magic?" Emmeline asked.

Remus looked thoughtful for a few moments. "It felt as though it was pushing me," he finally said out loud. "The closer I got to it, the stronger the push was, until it became strong enough to actually cause me to lose my balance. The best analogy I can think of to describe it is two Muggle magnets—the magnet will repel its polar opposite by pushing it away. What I felt with that magic was very disorienting and disconcerting; there was nothing visible doing the pushing and therefore, shouldn't have been able to push with that much force."

Arthur looked intrigued at the idea of Muggle magnets, but before he could inquire about them anymore Dumbledore stood to thank Remus for his report and moved on to the next item of business. For a moment, Remus remained standing, looking in confusion at the Headmaster as though he'd had something more to add to the report, and Dumbledore had known it, but cut him off anyway.

"What?" Sirius asked in a whisper when Remus finally retook his seat.

"Later," Remus mumbled back, turning back to pay attention to Bill's report about the goblins of Gringotts.

Sirius watched his best friend for some time, getting the feeling that though he was putting up a good show of nodding in all the right places while the others made their reports, if asked after the meeting what was discussed, Remus would have no clue. Ever since his return from his latest assignment, Remus had been keeping rather to himself. He was more prone to losing himself to his thoughts than Sirius had ever seen him, keeping secrets from everybody, Sirius included. Whatever he'd discovered ten miles outside Godric's Hollow was weighing far too heavily on Remus' mind for him to keep it to himself, but he was doing it nonetheless. It certainly wasn't the first instance that Remus had acted this way; Sirius could think of a handful of times during their friendship that Remus preferred to keep silent about what was bothering him and regardless of how hard Sirius tried to get him to talk, it would only end in frustration on the Animagus' part and Remus becoming more tight-lipped than he was already being.

The kitchen door opened, startling the entire Order. Sirius turned his head and promptly rolled his eyes when he spotted Ken's grinning entrance.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Revold," Mad-Eye growled.

"My apologies," Ken said. "I was rather sidetracked with one of my lesson plans. I hope I didn't miss anything."

"We will catch you up later, Ken," Dumbledore said, looking at the younger wizard with an unidentifiable expression. "Please, take a seat."

Sirius looked across the table to find Tonks' ashen face as she avoided looking at the new arrival. Had she seen whatever it had been that tipped her off that Ken was hiding something? Tonks wasn't the only one looking at Ken oddly—Remus was also rather unabashedly studying the wizard with a furrowed brow, almost as though he was seeing Ken for the first time. When the meeting ended, Sirius expected Tonks and Remus to both revert to their normal moods and push back whatever thoughts they were having about Ken; neither of them moved an inch, however, and Sirius was becoming much more interested in what it had been that Remus discovered during his assignment.

Ken himself seemed preoccupied. When he wasn't being offered tea and cakes from Molly or being asked how Harry and his friends were doing at school, he was staring into the fire, an odd gleam in his eyes. For a few moments, Sirius played with the idea of dragging the wizard upstairs and demanding to know what he was hiding.

Soon enough, the kitchen full of Order members began to clear out, leaving only those too caught up in their thoughts to notice, and Sirius. He sat looking between Ken, Remus, and Tonks, unable to recall a time the four of them had been in a room together without any conversation whatsoever.

Remus finally broke the silence with the clearing of his throat. "Would anybody else care for a glass of firewhiskey?" he asked quietly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as his best friend stood from the table. It certainly wasn't unheard of for Remus to drink firewhiskey, but very rarely did he ever initiate the drinking; that seemed to be Sirius' new lot in life. Remus returned to the table with four short glasses and a new bottle of whiskey; he silently poured the drinks and passed them around to the others.

"Cheers," muttered the werewolf before downing his shot in two large gulps. He winced a little at the burning sensation and poured himself another.

"So what was it you didn't want to say during the meeting, Moony?" Sirius asked in an attempt to rid them of this pressing silence.

At first, it seemed Remus wasn't going to reply—he was staring into his glass broodingly—but he sighed, shot a brief glance at Ken, and looked back at Sirius. "Only that the magic we detected isn't new," he said quietly. "From what I could tell—which, again, wasn't much—the energy has been in place and growing exponentially for several years. Considering Dumbledore was unaware of its existence, it only became detectable a few months ago."

"A few months ago?" Tonks asked dully. Remus nodded. "So around the time Voldemort returned..."

Remus sighed heavily. "That was the conclusion I was approaching as well."

"Couldn't it just be coincidence?" Sirius suggested.

"It wasn't."

The others looked up in surprise, having forgotten Ken was there—he hadn't said much at all since his arrival, apart from answering Molly's questions.

"How would you know?" Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes at the blond wizard.

Ken looked rather startled; apparently he hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud. "Think about it," he eventually said resignedly, realizing he wasn't getting out of an explanation by remaining silent. "Residual magical energy weakens over time; it doesn't strengthen. Voldemort has been getting stronger over the last few years, regaining his powers little by little... The magic Remus is studying seems to have been strengthening along with him."

"So it could somehow be connected with Voldemort?" Tonks asked skeptically, looking between Ken and Remus. "How likely is that?"

"Pretty damn likely, actually," Remus said wearily. "There are dozens of spells and curses that can linger with a person without fading—take Harry for example. The strength of Lily's sacrifice when Voldemort killed her has served as the strongest protection she could have ever given Harry. Dumbledore was able to strengthen that magic, making it so Harry's safety is nearly guaranteed so long as he is underage and remains within the sanctity of his mother's blood."

"Yeah, but that magic has been in place since Lily and James were killed," Sirius argued. "It's always been there; from what you're saying, Moony, this magic or spell or whatever just appeared—"

Remus shook his head. "That's _not _what I said," he replied. "The magic may have been put into place years ago and left undetectable and dormant until Voldemort's return." He shook his head again, this time in obvious frustration. "That's assuming Voldemort was even behind it at all. Which we _don't know_," he added firmly when Sirius opened his mouth to retort.

"Ken seems to think it is," Sirius muttered, glancing at the wizard.

Ken's eyebrows rose. "No Ken doesn't," he said. "It's just a theory."

But something in his tone seemed off to Sirius—he seemed a little _too_ defensive.

"Either way," Remus interjected before Sirius could say a word. "We can't know for certain until I've the chance to discover more about it." He finished off his drink, gathered his papers, and stood. "Now if you lot will excuse me, I'm exhausted. Good night."

The others returned the sentiment and fell into another silence. A few minutes later, Ken muttered something about needing to return to the school, but before Sirius could think to stop and question him, he'd already gone through the Floo.

"I should get going too," Tonks yawned. "Wouldn't do to fall asleep during the staff meeting tomorrow. Night, Sirius."

"Night," Sirius grunted as she left the kitchen. Rather than sit there alone all night, as had been the custom while Remus was off on assignment, Sirius stood as well, extinguished the fire, and made his own way up the stairs.

* * *

"SHIT!"

Ken slammed shut the door of his bedroom at Hogwarts and began to pace the room angrily, running his hands through his hair as he went. Dumbledore had told him—_warned_ him—that Remus would be investigating the magic outside Godric's Hollow, but had assured him Remus wouldn't come up with anything of consequence. He should have known better; Remus had a tendency to come up with theories with minimal information, whereas others would just remain bewildered until something else came to light. The worst of it was Remus' theories had been very nearly spot on, even if he didn't realize or understand it. And the closer Remus came to discovering the truth, the less likely it seemed Ken could remain disguised. He'd known for some time Remus suspected_ something_, but he'd believed the truth would seem so implausible that Remus would brush it off immediately. Had he been wrong?

"Shit," Ken muttered, collapsing in a chair.

This wasn't going the way he'd hoped it would. He'd wanted to reveal himself on his own terms, preferably _after_ he'd taken care of a few things.

_Only one thing for it,_ he thought resignedly. _I need to get a move on, get this plan going before Remus shows up demanding by wandpoint to know the truth._

He thought again about Draco Malfoy and his apparent dealings with Death Eaters, finding himself unconcerned with the purpose of the meetings. All that currently mattered to him was how simply he could achieve success if he could convince the boy to go along with it.

_Shouldn't be too hard_, he mused. _A few minor threats ought to do the trick..._

Slightly cheered by the thought, Ken stood to make his way to the kitchens, hoping for a large slice of chocolate cake to help along his thought processes.


	8. Eight

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Eight_

"All right, Moony?"

Remus, who'd been trying to make sense of the parchment on desk in front of him, snapped his head up, blinking drowsily as Sirius' rather bleary form came into focus. "M'fine," he mumbled, sitting up straighter and shuffling his research notes.

Sirius pushed himself off the doorjamb he'd been leaning against for who knew how long and fully entered the library. "Anything interesting?" he asked, gesturing to the pile of parchment on the desk.

The werewolf averted his eyes. "Not really," he lied.

On the contrary: the information he'd discovered over the last few days was very interesting, not to mention confusing, and though he'd bet his wand that the conclusions he'd drawn were the correct ones, he was reluctant to share it with Sirius. Considering his friend's likeliness to overreact and to let his temper take over when he was frustrated and confused, Remus knew it was best, for the time being, not to rock the boat.

_No, better to have all the facts before Sirius finds out and overreacts and loses his temper,_ Remus thought dully. _That, and this close to the full moon, I just don't have the energy to calm him down once he gets going..._

"When's Snivellus bringing your potion?" asked the other wizard as he threw himself on the sofa.

Remus sighed and glanced at the clock. His last dose of Wolfsbane before moonrise should be delivered by Severus at any moment. The fact that his childhood nemesis was brewing such a crucial potion had grated on Sirius' nerves from the beginning, and had been the subject of several arguments between the two—Sirius wholly maintained that Snape, given the opportunity, would not hesitate to poison Remus.

"I'm not sure," Remus responded quietly. "I believe he's supervising detentions this evening."

Sirius scowled. "Probably caught Harry and his lot breathing too loudly." Remus gave a non-committal grunt. "Greasy bastard..." After muttering a few more insults directed at Severus Snape, Sirius sat up and looked at Remus over the back of the sofa. "Has Tonks talked to you?"

Remus raised a cautious eyebrow; there could be a dozen or more directions Sirius could be going with that particular subject. "Could have done," he muttered, still avoiding his friend's eyes.

Sirius snorted a laugh. "Calm down, mate," he said with a grin. "This isn't one of _those_ conversations..." Remus must have relaxed visibly at his words, because he could hear Sirius' muffled sniggers. When some of the wizard's amusement at Remus' lack of comfort with the subject of Tonks faded, Sirius' expression turned rather grave. "She came by while you were away, bothered by something she noticed about Revold. And before you say anything—" Sirius cut across Remus before he had the chance to do more than open his mouth. "—I'm not just conjuring this out of thin air; you can ask Tonks about it."

Remus watched his friend with a measured expression until his curiosity got the better of him. "And what did Tonks notice?" he asked flatly.

He listened closely to everything Tonks had confided in Sirius, about what she begun to suspect about Ken Revold's identity—or at least that she suspected he had more secrets than he'd been letting on. Sirius went on to explain his own theories—_maybe Revold's an Animagus?; maybe he's under Polyjuice?_

_Or all the above,_ Remus thought darkly, not realizing he'd spoken aloud until he'd spotted Sirius' eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

"You know something about this, Moony?" Sirius asked quietly.

Remus took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, uncertain whether, when he opened his mouth the truth would come out or if he'd come up with yet another diversionary tactic to both throw Sirius off the trail and to placate him for a few minutes while he figured something else out. Luckily, he was saved the bother of either scenario when Molly knocked lightly on the open library door, looking as though she was heading out for the night.

"I just wanted to say goodnight, dears," she said briskly, either unaware of or ignoring the tension in the room. "There's stew warming in the kitchen if you get hungry before..." She trailed off as her eyes darted briefly to Remus and away, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Well, I'll be back around lunchtime to check in on you both at any rate."

Remus bade Molly goodnight and stood from the desk, hoping to make it to the kitchen before Sirius could continue their conversation. As it was, as he reached the door, he heard Sirius getting to his feet as well and muttering something about this not being over. Remus sighed heavily, wondering how much longer he could hope to keep this from his friend without being forced to admit the information by wandpoint.

* * *

Less than a week before Draco Malfoy's next meeting with a Death Eater, Ken had taken to following the boy when he had the chance, or having him followed by a surprisingly eager house-elf called Dobby. So far, Ken was disappointed; Draco hadn't done anything that could possibly be of any interest to Lord Voldemort—Draco's usual routine consisted of going to classes, completing prefect patrols, having dinner in the Great Hall, going to Quidditch practice, and, at times, sneaking out of the Slytherin common room with Pansy Parkinson.

Ken was pacing himself, knowing he had to time his next move perfectly, lest Draco have time to contact his father, or worse, involve Severus Snape. Somehow, Ken had managed to avoid run-ins with the potions master. It was quite obvious Snape disliked him, mostly for daring to become friends with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, or being friendly with Harry Potter and his friends.

_If he only knew..._ Ken thought, grinning at the thought that Snape had much more to dislike him for than his acquaintances.

The fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class was currently finishing up an essay on offensive jinxes to render their opponent unable to speak long enough to get the upper hand in a duel. Earlier in the week, he'd shown them several different techniques, including a tongue-tying jinx that had been the cause of several of the students' inability to do anything more than mime conversations for the better part of the day. Madam Pomfrey had lectured Ken for a good forty-five minutes about the possible side effects this could have caused. Ken had maintained a sheepish expression in front of the school nurse, but once within the safety of his quarters, had laughed for an hour over the memory of Hermione Granger trying to berate Ron Weasley for being rude to first years while her tongue was tied up like a pretzel knot.

The bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day, and Ken watched several quills drop onto desks as the students sighed in relief at the prospect of dinner in their near future. The Gryffindors and Slytherins packed up their bags while Ken announced their essays would be due at the beginning of their next lesson if they wanted a chance to try out any of their jinxes. Draco was the first to stand from his desk; Ken came to a split-second decision.

"Mr. Malfoy," he called before Draco could reach the door. "If you could hang back for a few minutes, please..."

Draco turned and glared at his professor, muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle, and slowly made his way to the front of the class. "Yes, Professor?" the boy asked with as much disdain as he could manage.

Ken simply held up a hand to silence him, waiting until the room cleared out. Once the door had closed, Ken turned to gather his things, gesturing for Draco to head up the stairs to his office. "Just a quick word," he assured Draco lightly. "You'll be in the Great Hall before the second course arrives."

Draco threw himself into the chair in front of the desk, letting his bag drop to the floor, watching Ken silently ponder his next move. "Am I in trouble?"

Ken raised an eyebrow, seating himself behind the desk. "That depends," he said quietly, leaning forward, "on whether you cooperate with me." Draco's brow furrowed in brief confusion, masking for a moment the arrogant Malfoy expression. "I only wondered if you enjoyed your stroll through the Forbidden Forest last week. You do realize it's called that for a reason?" Draco paled. "I spotted you from the obstacle course and decided it would be best if I followed you to ensure your safety."

The boy's eyes darted away as nervous sweat appeared on his forehead. "You're going to report me?" Draco blurted out, obviously unable to think of a way to argue that he was nowhere near the forest.

"As I said," Ken went on, "that depends on you. There are about a dozen things I could do to get you expelled from Hogwarts and possibly interrogated by the Ministry of Magic if I were to mention you were meeting known Death Eaters on school grounds."

Draco muttered an automatic retort of "my father will hear about this," but didn't comment any further.

"I'm not afraid of your father, boy," Ken said coolly. "Far from it, actually. Now, I know you don't want to spend the rest of your school term, at minimum, in detention. And really, I don't give a damn what information you were passing along—at least not right now. There's only one thing I want from you right now, and if you follow every instruction I give you, I can guarantee your immunity from any punishment."

The boy turned his cold, grey eyes back on Ken. He was suspicious—as he should have been—but when Ken didn't comment any further, curiosity pushed some of that aside. "What do you want?" Draco muttered resignedly.

Ken grinned, knowing anything he told Draco to do right now would be done without question, especially if it ensured he wouldn't land himself in detention, or have it be known by his father he'd been caught passing information to the Death Eaters—certainly Lucius had attempted to teach his son _something _about stealth. "Here's what's going to happen, Draco..."

* * *

It is a rather well known fact that werewolves in their transformed state do not dream. Or if they do, it's not in the way you or I dream. Werewolf dreams aren't full of images of friends or family, or of daily events. They aren't clear and they certainly wouldn't make sense to a normal human mind. The images are in black and white as the werewolf chases after whatever prey caught their attention. Werewolves don't think in regular terms in their wakened state and that certainly doesn't change during their unconsciousness.

Remus Lupin was used to werewolf dreams. He'd been told by his friends in his youth that while he slept he would huff and his paws would twitch as though he was running. Since their reunion, Sirius had confirmed this theory and added that snoring from Remus in human form was nothing like that of Remus in wolf form.

Tonight, though, was different. There were dreams, but whether it was a side effect of the Wolfsbane Potion or something completely unrelated, the dreams were far more vivid and concise than any Remus could ever remember experiencing even in his non-wolf form. It didn't even feel as though he was really dreaming. He was looking down at himself and Padfoot from what seemed to be the ceiling of the Grimmauld Place library. Both canines were resting in front of a blazing fire, their heads resting on their paws as they apparently slept.

The door behind them opened, though neither dog nor werewolf so much as cracked an eyelid in acknowledgment. Remus looked over and let out a startled gasp—it sounded no louder than a breath. Standing just inside the library doors was a tall, handsome, stag, its hazel eyes scanning the room carefully, not missing a single detail. The animal crossed the wooden floor, his hooves making just the slightest tapping noise as they moved. He stood above the werewolf and dog, looking down on them as they slept—if animals could fill their eyes with expression, the stag's eyes would display a deep wistfulness that most humans couldn't possibly manage. Padfoot twitched a little in his sleep, rolling from his stomach onto his back, his legs sticking straight up in the air. The stag huffed, a noise Remus interpreted as a laugh, feeling himself chuckle at Sirius' sleeping antics.

The moment the noise escaped, the stag stiffened and Remus held his breath. He watched closely as the animal's head slowly turned, so slowly in fact Remus wasn't certain it had occurred until he was looking directly into those hazel eyes. The two of them just looked at one another for a few moments; a fog was slowly lifting from Remus' brain, a fog he hadn't known had existed until that very second, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt who the stag was and how he was there.

The stag was the first to look away, his eyes dropping briefly back to the two canines still asleep on the floor, and without another look at Remus, he turned and left the room as quietly as he had entered.

* * *

The moon had set, Remus' transformation had completed, and he was crawling into bed after his quick morning shower. While the Wolfsbane did help taper off some of the worse effects of a werewolf's transformation, Remus still felt exhausted and beat up at moonset. And at every moonset, Remus had to ward off thoughts that his exhaustion was more caused by aging rather than his monthly condition.

_If I have gotten so old that the moon takes that much out of me, it's been caused by Sirius,_ he thought wearily as he adjusted the pillows beneath his head and got comfortable in bed.

As his eyes were closing, his mind began to replay the dream he'd had the night before, the one that, upon waking, had been immediately forgotten. He recalled staring into a pair of very familiar hazel eyes and realizing who the stag was—if the eyes hadn't given it away, the black markings around them that were exactly like the round-rimmed glasses James Potter had worn for most of his life would have.

Quite suddenly, Remus found himself void of any and all exhaustion. He pushed himself up the headboard, ignoring the protest from his aching muscles and wondered what to do with this new information. It could have just been a dream, he told himself. His mind had been so focused on one thing for so long that his thoughts had overlapped, leaking into his dreams. Regardless of everything he'd discovered in the last few weeks, the facts remained that it was impossible and he was just seeing the results he _wanted_ to see.

_But no matter how badly I've wanted to see James again, no matter how often I've thought about how it would be if he and Lily hadn't died, I've never hallucinated like this. The wolf doesn't hallucinate, whether Wolfsbane helps keep my human mind or not._

Nothing made sense. Remus always believed himself to be a reasonable person, able to separate his feelings from a situation in which his feelings were fighting for control. The more he tried to distance himself from his current predicament, the more confusing things became.

_If it is true,_ he thought tentatively, refusing to get his hopes up, _everything fits—from his behavior to what happened in Godric's Hollow the night Voldemort returned. _

Remus sighed in frustration. The only way he could know for certain was to either wait for an opportune moment and try to undo Ken Revold's glamour charm—if it even _was_ a glamour charm—or to ask him straight out.

_And that wouldn't be an awkward conversation at all... "Evening, Ken, how're your lessons coming along? Oh by the way, you wouldn't happen to be my long dead best friend in disguise would you? Only I've been thinking it over and you really seem to have a lot of his mannerisms."_

Even if he wasn't taken straight to St. Mungo's for a mental evaluation, he'd never be able to look Ken in the face again.

A very light knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he called hoarsely.

The door opened and Tonks entered, smiling rather tentatively at him as she carried a tea tray into the room. "Wotcher, Remus," she said, concentrating solely on crossing the room without dropping the tray. "Thought you might like a bite of breakfast."

Remus smiled at her. "I would, actually," he admitted as she set the tray down on his desk.

"Wasn't expecting you to be awake. Molly said you usually spend the whole day sleeping, but I thought I'd at least leave you the tray for when you woke up so you wouldn't have to come all the way downstairs..." She blushed slightly.

Remus chuckled softly. "Very considerate of you, thank you," he said quietly. He eyed the tray loaded with breakfast foods, enough to feed the entire Order if it came down to it. "There seems to be a bit of an excess; would you care to join me?"

Tonks smiled brightly. "Sure," she responded. She proceeded to fill two plates and he scooted over a bit on the bed so she'd have room to sit down, trying to conceal the wince as his muscles objected loudly at the movement. Tonks sat on the bed, handing him his plate, then reached over for a goblet of something Remus suspected wasn't pumpkin juice. "Muscle relaxer potion," she told him quietly. "Thought you could use one." She hesitated, her eyes darting between him and the goblet. "Erm, you haven't had one yet, have you? Only I think Sirius might kill me if you overdose and die..."

Chuckling again, Remus shook his head. "No, I've not had one yet," he assured her, taking the goblet. "By now, I'm usually so far asleep it doesn't make a difference."

"But not today?" she asked, taking a bit of scrambled eggs.

Again, Remus shook his head, finishing off the potion in three large gulps. The effects were instant; every muscle knot in his body undid itself, most of his pain fading. "No, not today," he said quietly. In order to avoid meeting her eyes, though he was uncertain why he found this necessary at the moment, he placed a few strips of bacon on a slice of toast and covered it with another slice before taking a bite. "I, erm, apparently had a lot on my mind this morning."

She nodded thoughtfully and they ate in companionable silence for several minutes. Every so often, Remus would glance at her, wondering when their friendship had evolved into something he couldn't quite identify. All he really knew was that one day she'd walked into the kitchen for a meeting and all his platonic feelings for her were replaced with something decidedly stronger. Sirius had picked up on it almost immediately—which wasn't surprising, since Sirius knew Remus better than almost anyone—and had taken every chance to tease him about it.

_He can tease all he wants_, Remus thought broodingly, starting on his eggs. _Not as though it matters either way—nothing happening on that front._ His eyes darted briefly to Tonks again. _Unfortunately..._

Rather than dwelling on yet another thing in his life that did nothing but confuse him, Remus recalled the discussion he and Sirius had started last night before moonrise. "Sirius mentioned you were here last week," he began quietly. "And that you had concerns about Ken Revold..."

He glanced over just in time to see Tonks roll her eyes at herself. "I was probably just imagining it, Remus, really," she began. "Exhaustion and all that..."

"I'm not so sure," Remus replied, feeling the need to get his thoughts out in the open. At least he knew Tonks wouldn't fly off the handle like Sirius would, or immediately call him mental like everyone else... "You're not the only one who's noticed something..._ off_ about him."

Tonks straightened up, nearly upsetting her breakfast plate. As it was, she cursed softly as she picked bits of scrambled egg off Remus' blanket. "You've noticed something too?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Maybe not quite what you have," he admitted. "Little things mostly, pertaining to things he would say or do. He seemed familiar to me from the beginning, though I didn't know how or why. I was able to come up with a few theories to confirm my thoughts while I was in Godric's Hollow." He hesitated. The closer he got to discussing his theories the more ridiculous they sounded, even in his mind. "Something happened there, Tonks, the night Voldemort returned in that cemetery, and I think..." He trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

A small hand on his arm startled him. He looked over into Tonks' eyes again. "You think...?" she said leadingly.

He sighed heavily. "I think Ken is connected with it."

* * *

On the eve of Halloween, while most of Hogsmeade village was heading towards pubs to begin their celebrations, a large brown rat rushed between legs, rushing to his destination. Truth be told, the rat was uncertain what he was doing here tonight; all he'd been told was that the identity of the Dark Lord's liaison between himself and Hogwarts may have been compromised during the most recent meeting with Draco Malfoy. Draco had written his father a few days before, claiming he believed he'd been followed by a teacher at the school. Mulciber, the original person chosen to pass information between the Dark Lord and Draco, therefore was currently being punished for not being more careful—Draco may have been the intended target for punishment, but as he was at school and Dumbledore would undoubtedly notice one of his students disappearing for any extended length of time or aforementioned student returning to the castle with torture-induced injuries.

The rat hurried along, finally arriving at the village outskirts. It paused, glancing behind it to check he was alone—the last thing he wanted right now was to be in Mulciber's position. Hiding in the shadows, the rat disappeared, transforming within seconds into a short, balding man whose right arm was made of silver and seemed to attract far more attention than he needed right now. Hiding the arm in his cloak, Peter Pettigrew eyed the Shrieking Shack, unable to forget the last time he'd been inside there. He had been absolutely certain his life was going to end that night—the words had been on the tips of his former friends' tongues; he could see the anger and hatred in their eyes as they stared at him—and if Harry hadn't had a moment of clarity... Peter still couldn't believe the luck he'd struck as he'd been dragged out from the Whomping Willow between Remus Lupin and Ron Weasley. In all the time Peter had known Remus, the rising of the full moon had never been forgotten, no matter the circumstances—Remus always had it timed down to the second. But that night, not only did the moon recede into the far reaches of his mind, but he'd also neglected his potion. There had been just enough panic among the others that Peter had been able to escape.

_May not be so lucky next time_, thought the wizard as he ducked under the fence surrounding the shack, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head.

He managed to put old friends out of mind as he snuck around the shack, searching for the secret entrance known only to the Marauders. James and Sirius had created it during their sixth year at Hogwarts as an easy way to sneak a werewolf in and out for an all-night adventure in the mountains. The entrance was marked by a large boulder behind a tree. Glancing around him again to ensure he wasn't being watched, Peter tapped the boulder with his wand, stepping back to watch as the boulder transfigured itself into a door large enough to allow comfortable passage of a stag with tall antlers. It was rare after the creation of the entrance that James ever used the Whomping Willow entrance while in his Animagus form.

Peter entered through the door and once he was inside, the door disappeared, retransfiguring back into the large, unassuming boulder on the other side of the wall. The shack's interior looked exactly as it had a year and a half ago; Peter found this comforting—it meant people hadn't been here since that full moon night and the chance of unwanted arrivals were slim. Regardless, his silver hand held his wand as he started up the creaking staircase and into the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to block out the destruction caused not by a teenage werewolf and his three Animagus friends, but by the adult werewolf, one of his Animagus friends, and the man whose life they had been so close to ending in revenge for betrayal.

The stairs creaked. Peter's head snapped up in that direction, his heart racing even though he knew it would have to be Draco Malfoy. The footsteps moved slowly across the landing, then stopped suddenly just outside the door. Without knowing why, Peter began to hold his breath, staring into the darkness as he waited for the figure outside the door to reveal itself.

Sounding much braver than he felt, Peter raised his wand, still surprised that though his entire body shook, his wand arm remained steadier than he'd ever been able to hold it. "Who's there?' he called into the darkness. "Show y-yourself! I'm prepared to kill."

Feet shuffled slightly on the landing, just barely muffling a snort of laughter. "Kill, Peter?" asked a voice Peter knew he should have recognized. As it was, all he could do was adjust the grip on his wand and swallow heavily. "Never thought you'd have it in you. Then again, as it turns out, we didn't know you nearly as well as we thought we did, did we?"

The voice was familiar, but Peter couldn't quite place to whom it belonged. He narrowed his eyes, forcing them to adjust to the darkness in the room, and was finally able to spot a tall figure standing just inside the door. Though he'd only met Draco Malfoy once since the Dark Lord's return, Peter was certain the boy didn't have the same build as the person before him.

"Who are you?" Peter breathed fearfully.

Another snort. The figure took two steps into the room and Peter felt the blood drain completely out of his body and his heart stop beating. "Y-y-you..." he breathed, pointing with his still steady silver hand, suddenly hit with a feeling of déjà vu.

The other man grinned. "Hello, Peter," he said coldly. "Long time no see..."

* * *

Remus opened his eyes on Halloween morning and stared at the dusty, cobwebbed ceiling of his Grimmauld Place bedroom. He'd known exactly what day it was upon waking—he'd been lying with his eyes closed to probably an hour now—but found himself dreading dealing with it. This would be the first time Remus and Sirius had spent a Halloween together since before the deaths of Lily and James Potter, and he was certain there would be a lot of drinking and dark conversations ahead of him. Upon hearing Sirius cough outside his door on the landing, Remus resignedly pushed away his blankets and forced himself out of bed. He quickly dressed and popped his head outside the door just as Sirius was leaving the bathroom. It was immediately apparent that Sirius had spent some of his wakened time that morning crying; his eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

"Morning," Sirius said gruffly, swiping at his eyes. "Sleep well?"

Remus gave him a grimace of sympathy and muttered something in response as the two friends made their way down the stairs for breakfast. Molly and Arthur had gone home for the weekend to give the wizards some time alone, though Molly's uttered reason had been that she needed to feed the chickens and make sure the garden gnomes hadn't taken over the house. Whatever the reason, Remus found he appreciated it; he wasn't quite in the mood to feign politeness to anybody, not even the Weasleys. Before taking her leave, however, Molly had insisted on preparing several meals for the two wizards. There was enough food to feed the entire Order of the Phoenix for the next six months. As Remus was debating whether he wanted to save the chocolate French toast for another time, Sirius had stopped in his tracks.

"What?" Remus asked as he watched his best friend's brow furrow.

"D'you hear that?" Sirius whispered.

Remus' brow furrowed as well as he strained to hear whatever Sirius was listening to. "Hear wha—?" He stopped suddenly when he heard a rather high-pitched squeaking noise. While the source of the noise rang some bell of recognition in Remus' mind, he was suspicious, as he knew he should be, and wondered if this was Sirius' or Kreacher's idea of a joke. Judging, however, by the look on the other wizard's face currently, the house-elf was the chief suspect.

Together Remus and Sirius headed down the stairs—Sirius obviously prepared to once again lay into Kreacher, and Remus to try to keep the situation under control—and opened the kitchen door to find a seemingly fresh fire blazing in the grate, and several Halloween decorations that looked as though they belonged at the Great Hall in Hogwarts. Among other things, there were at least three giant pumpkins carved with animals—one a large, shaggy dog, another with a wolf howling at a moon, and the third of a stag pawing at the ground. If this wasn't odd enough, on the table sat a small black cage with bars rather close together that Remus assumed were intended to keep whatever was inside where it was. On top was a large black and orange bow.

Exchanging a bewildered glance, the two wizards proceeded cautiously into the kitchen, their wands drawn and hung loosely at their sides, to examine the cage. The closer they grew, the louder and more urgent the squeaks became and the more apparent what the cage held: it was a rat.

"Bloody hell," Sirius rasped, his eyes widening. "That can't be..." Remus had stopped in his tracks feet from the table while Sirius peered between the black bars. When his friend emitted a deep growl, Remus' heart began to race. "Wormtail!"

Remus immediately crossed to Sirius to keep him from harming whatever was inside—he was too cynical to believe Peter Pettigrew was currently behind bars, as it was, in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix on this of all days. But as he bent over to have a look, he recognized the animal inside instantly. The light brown hair of the rat had gotten thinner since either Remus or Sirius had last seen it, he was thin enough that he was displaying his tiny ribs, and it's right paw, which Remus knew should have had a toe missing, was silver. Remus was lost in a blind haze for a moment, a staticky noise filling his head as his mind registered the situation at hand. When he returned to reality, Sirius was murmuring curses that would make Molly Weasley not only _Scourgify_ his mouth as punishment, but probably place a Silencing Charm on him for a week.

Always the most reasonable of the two, Remus began looking around the kitchen for clues as to how Peter Pettigrew had gotten into the house. His eyes caught sight of a piece of parchment folded in half just beneath the bow on top of the cage. "There's a note..." he said faintly, reaching out for it.

Sirius paused mid-curse and turned to him. "What?" he asked curtly.

Remus waved the note a little before unfolding it and reading the four scrawled words written in blue ink. He then choked laugh before shoving the note under Sirius' nose and examining the rat again.

His friend was silent for some time, and finally Remus turned to find Sirius mouthing the words to himself, his complexion paling with every reread. He shakily met Remus' eyes and the werewolf had the sudden mad urge to burst out laughing. Sirius seemed to reach out behind him for a chair that wasn't there and ended up sitting in mid-air, then falling to the cold stone floor, the note floating slowly to the floor, its words staring at the ceiling:

_Happy Halloween from Elvendork._

* * *

**AN:** I'm horrible and neglectful and just downright cruel, I know. It's been far too long since I've worked on this story and all I can do is beg for your forgiveness, oh wonderful readers of mine. If you can't tell, the story is winding down-I'm thinking one or two more chapters, depending on how easily things come to me. In the meantime, though I know I don't deserve them in the slightest, I hope you'll all be so very kind as to leave me a review, even if it is just to tell me how horrible, neglectful, and downright cruel I am.

Oh, and the use of Elvendork is significant to this story. An entire tray of fresh, hot cookies to the first reviewer who can tell me why I used it.


	9. Nine

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Nine_

Confusion was rampant in the Most Noble and Ancient Kitchen of Black in the early afternoon of Halloween day. Following the discovery of Peter Pettigrew locked in his Animagus form in a cage by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, the majority of the Order had been notified, and their presences requested, for an impromptu and unofficial meeting. The two remaining Marauders sat at the kitchen table for nearly an hour before the first arrival, staring in shock at the rat in the cage.

Tonks was the first to reply to the summons Remus had sent. The witch could be heard stumbling around above the kitchen, knocking over the troll's leg umbrella stand which subsequently set off Mrs. Black's portrait, then came the mingled curses of both Auror and Crazy Old Bat as the Auror fought to get the curtains shut again. Neither Sirius nor Remus had been capable of removing their eyes from the cage long enough to lend their help to the witch.

"This is what was so important?" Tonks asked incredulously, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "You actually got me out of bed after two twenty-four hour back-to-back shifts for a bloody Halloween party, you gits?"

Remus shook his head, not taking his eyes off the rat. "That wasn't why," he replied quietly. He heard Tonks' footsteps enter the kitchen further and stop behind the wizards' chairs; Remus raised a hand to point at the cage. "That's why."

Tonks moved around the wizards for a better look at the animal, then turned towards the men, her eyebrows raised. "Thinking of a new of a new Order mascot? Only I thought the phoenix was pretty fitting, all things considered, but if you don't like that, I'm sure Mad-Eye could turn someone into a ferret..."

"Not a bleeding mascot," Sirius growled. Remus glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eyes, amazed there weren't flames shooting out of Sirius' own eyes. "It's Wormtail."

Tonks froze for a moment, her brow furrowed at the rat. "Wormtail..." she whispered as though trying to jog her memory. Her eyes widened, she looked from Remus to the rat and back several times, then proceeded to point between Sirius and the rat., apparently unable to articulate her thoughts accurately after once again getting no sleep. "Wormtail!"

Remus nodded. "Wormtail," he confirmed quietly. "He was just _here_ this morning when we came down, along with the decorations." He waved towards the rest of the kitchen. "We were hoping someone in the Order had some answers as to how and why he's here."

"Who gives a damn why he's here?" Sirius said, taking his eyes off Wormtail for the first time that morning. "You know what this means, Moony?"

Remus could only nod. The capture of Peter Pettigrew meant dozens of things to the Order, not least of all the proof needed to clear Sirius' name with the Ministry. He knew Sirius was getting excited as everything began to sink in and he didn't want to be the person to dash his best friend's hopes. Unfortunately for everyone, the Order couldn't just march into the Ministry with Sirius in the lead carrying Wormtail's cage and drop it on Fudge's desk. The moment Sirius stepped one foot into the Atrium, Aurors would swoop down on him, dragging him right back to Azkaban, probably right alongside his fellow Order members. This had to be thought through very carefully, regardless of Sirius' excitement.

Kingsley and Mad-Eye were the next to arrive at Headquarters, the latter of whom spent nearly half an hour poking his wand through the cage bars and muttering charms to detect the true identity of the thing inside. By lunchtime, most of the others had joined them, all of them shocked and pleased at the Order's newest acquisition. None of them had the slightest insight into the mystery surrounding the rat's timely arrival that morning.

"Had to be an Order member," Tonks said for the umpteenth time that day. "Who else could get into the house?"

"A very relevant question, Nymphadora," said a voice from the stairs.

The entire Order turned in nearly perfect synchronicity towards their leader—a few of them darting their eyes between him and Tonks as though wondering if she would admonish the headmaster for using her first name as she did the rest of them. Dumbledore, however, remained perfectly serene as he observed the scene before him. For the first time, Remus got a good look of the scene as well, noting that normally the sight of a dozen adults gathered around a table with their focus locked solely on a rodent would be cause for eyebrow raising at the very least.

"I apologize that I seem to be among the last to join the festivities," Dumbledore went on. "But I was held up at the school." He approached the table, his blue eyes locking on Wormtail almost immediately. "And what, may I ask, was the cause of this gathering..." No one answered as Dumbledore examined the rat. Remus swore he saw the Headmaster's eyes widen; for the first time, it seemed Albus Dumbledore was genuinely surprised by something. "Ah, I see..."

The kitchen was silent save for the scraping of a few chairs across the floor to make room for Dumbledore. The Headmaster knelt in front of the cage much more easily than a man his age should have done and scrutinized the rat. Remus watched as the rat unwillingly locked eyes with the Headmaster; he wondered if Dumbledore was going to perform Legilimency on Wormtail. Sudden intrigue struck as Remus realized the mysterious arrival of Wormtail could be solved by simply forcing the rat to transform back into his human form and questioning him.

_Then again..._ Remus glanced over at Sirius who looked more like a dog at that moment than any human had a right to look. The risk of forcing Peter's transformation in Sirius' proximity was apparent: Harry wasn't here to convince his godfather not to murder his parents' betrayer this time, and Remus wasn't sure he had enough discipline when it came to Peter to try and stop Sirius himself.

Before he could think much further, Dumbledore stood again. "I see," he repeated, this time his tone rather colder than before.

"Sir?" Remus said, drawing the Headmaster's attention from Wormtail.

Whatever Dumbledore had been thinking about seemed to drift away immediately. He turned to smile at Remus. "My apologies. Who would care to bring me up to speed on these very interesting circumstances?"

For the tenth time that morning, Remus and Sirius took it in turns to explain how they'd found Wormtail in the very same spot he still occupied. They were so engrossed in the tale that Remus very nearly missed the arrival of yet another Order member. Ken Revold snuck down the kitchen stairs, obviously trying to avoid drawing attention to himself. And though none of the others saw him, Remus couldn't seem to look away from him. His mind went back to the note he and Sirius had found attached to Wormtail's cage—the familiarity of the handwriting and the name signed at the end.

Laughter began to bubble up through Remus' body, laughter which would have pulled all the attention to himself as his friends wondered if he'd lost his mind. He managed to stifle the laughter just in time, but Ken sensed his gaze. The two wizards stared at one another for long minutes, every inclination Remus had towards amusement dying out immediately, and something in Ken's eyes confirmed everything Remus had been thinking lately. It was apparently unintentional; Ken looked away first and seemed to be cursing himself.

Knowing now was not the time nor the place for the confrontation that was drawing ever nearer, Remus turned away and began listening to the Order's increasingly ridiculous theories on how Wormtail had come to be there. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus spotted Dumbledore turning towards Ken. He watched them surreptitiously as they had yet another conversation under the placement of the very useful _Muffliato_ charm. Dumbledore looked angry while Ken looked slightly smug and not at all apologetic.

_Curious,_ thought Remus, smirking to himself. _Very curious..._

* * *

It wasn't until very late that night when Remus finally got a chance to talk to Ken for the first time in weeks. And it certainly hadn't escaped Remus' notice that Ken had rather suddenly stopped coming to Order meetings weeks ago. He'd wondered if it had been related to the night when Ken had been late for a meeting and had found himself alone with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks discussing Remus' finds in Godric's Hollow. Though no one had spoken their thoughts, everyone in the kitchen that night had noticed Ken's defensive behavior and how he'd jumped into the conversation with information nobody in the Order, save Remus and Dumbledore, should have known.

Whether or not Ken suspected Remus knew the truth was irrelevant for the moment; if he did suspect being caught out, he had to have known Remus wouldn't tell anybody without express permission from either Ken or Dumbledore. There were things at work here Remus didn't understand yet. There could be reasons why Ken had to keep himself disguised and couldn't reveal his true identity to anybody. What these reasons might be still eluded Remus, but again, it wasn't relevant just yet.

Remus was startled out of his thoughts by raucous laughter around him. Apparently somebody—probably Dung or Sirius—had suggested a game of pin the tail on the rat. Wormtail's objections could barely be heard as Sirius amended the game, conjuring a handful of darts. The rules of this game involved throwing the darts as close as possible to Wormtail without actually hitting him—even Sirius had agreed that harming Wormtail before they were able to present him to the Ministry wasn't a good idea.

Chuckling behind him drew Remus' attention. He turned to find Ken leaning against the wall, watching Sirius try to aim his dart, even after several glasses of firewhiskey. Sirius would remain occupied for the next hour at least; now was the time. As quietly as he could, Remus stood up and crossed the room to Ken. The wizard met his eyes warily.

"Could we have a word?" Remus asked quietly.

Ken's eyes darted from Remus to the rest of the room as though hoping someone might draw his attention elsewhere. "Don't you want to stay and have your turn with the darts?" he asked uneasily.

Remus grinned. "Not particularly," he replied. "Throwing things at small animals isn't really my thing, regardless of the fact that the small animal in question has destroyed the lives of several of my friends."

"Course it's not," Ken said under his breath. "Sure, let's have a word, then..."

"Wonderful," Remus said cheerfully, holding open the door for them. Neither wizard said a word until they entered the drawing room, closed the door, and cast silencing charms around the room. Remus noticed immediately Ken didn't seem even the least bit surprised by his actions; in fact he was pacing around the room, his hands laced behind his head, probably trying to work out possible ways to once again evade questioning.

"Relax, I'm not going to curse you," Remus finally said, taking a seat in an armchair by the fire. The look on Ken's face was one of skepticism. Remus gestured for him to sit on the sofa, which he did reluctantly, apparently unwilling to get too comfortable just in case Remus did decide to pull out his wand and start a duel. "I don't suppose you know anything about what's going on downstairs."

"No, of course not," Ken said far too quickly. Remus' grin widened, increasing the uneasiness on the other wizard's face. "Why would you think that?"

Remus shrugged. "We've asked everyone," he said truthfully. "You're the only one I haven't had the chance to speak with." Ken nodded, relaxing just a touch. Remus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That night you were here with us, listening to me explain what I found in Godric's Hollow." Ken stiffened again. "How did you know all that?"

The blond wizard took a deep breath and let it out slowly before finally replying. "I don't suppose you'd buy that I'm just a good listener, would you?" he asked wryly.

Remus chuckled. "Unfortunately, no," he said. "I might've done, but some of your theories were startlingly spot on."

Ken fell back into the sofa cushions, rubbing his hands across his face. "This is why Dumbledore told me not to get all chummy with you lot," he said under his breath, just loudly enough for Remus' ears to pick it up. "Okay, Remus, you're right, I do know a little more than I've been letting on. I can't tell you everything, though..."

Remus felt his brow furrow. "What can you tell me?" he whispered, his heart racing for some reason.

Ken looked away towards the fire, carefully weighing his words. "Something did happen in Godric's Hollow," he said very slowly. "It started the night that Lily and James died and it ended on 24 June, the night Voldemort returned. His return triggered something else, something... unheard of. Dumbledore was the first to realize what it was and what it meant."

"What was it?"

Ken shook his head slowly, his eyes darting to the ceiling. "I'm not entirely sure," he said. Remus believed him. "It shouldn't've been possible, none of it." He paused for a few minutes, collecting his thoughts again before finally meeting Remus' eyes again. "You felt it, Remus. You explained it perfectly. Magnets pushing you away from the magic, pushing you through space and time and impossibility. If you'd gotten any closer than you did, you'd have been seriously injured." His eyes glazed over as he lost himself in thoughts Remus wasn't even sure he wanted to comprehend.

When Ken didn't continue after nearly fifteen minutes, Remus decided to take control of the conversation—this wasn't how he'd imagined this would go... "Look, Pr—"Remus stopped himself quickly, shooting a grin at Ken's widened eyes. "_Ken_, sorry... I know everything, alright? I know your name isn't Ken Revold. I know you never knew Severus Snape or Lily Potter before Hogwarts." Ken was breathing heavily, looking panicked. "Your stories were good, mate, but you really should've known I'd figure it out." By now, Remus was certain the grin on his face was the largest one he'd worn in fourteen years. "I know who you are, Ja—"

"Don't!" Ken said harshly, jumping to his feet, his wand twitching towards his wand. He managed to resist the urge to withdraw it. "Don't say it."

Remus looked back at him, startled. "Why not?" he asked, baffled. "We all know you can't hide forever."

"Not forever," said the other wizard trying to remain calm though his voice wavered. "But Remus, there are things going on that you couldn't possibly understand. There are things I'm supposed to do, things that can't be interrupted."

"Maybe we can help you," Remus told him, standing as well. "Sirius and I, you know we'd do whatever it took..."

Ken smiled at him, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No you can't," he said sadly. "I wish you could, but..."

The two wizards stared at one another for a few moments before Ken broke eye contact and started out of the room. Just as he grasped the doorknob, Remus spoke up again. "Why were you here on the full moon?" he blurted. Ken froze, but didn't turn around. "During my last transformation, you were here, in the library, in Animagus form. As Prongs. Why would you have done that if you didn't want us to know the truth?"

"Trust me, mate, I've wanted to tell you the truth from the beginning. But I can't." Ken still remained facing the door. "As for why I was here..." He shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted a reminder of what I had once. What I could have once all this is over." Ken glanced back over his shoulder at Remus. "Just do me a favor? Don't tell Padfoot just yet. I want to tell him myself."

Remus tried to speak, but couldn't think of anything useful to say, so he just nodded.

Ken smiled at him again. "Thanks, Moony. Good night."

Before Remus could think of any way to keep the other wizard in the room, the door had opened, Ken had disappeared, and the door had closed again, leaving him alone in the room feeling more confused than he'd ever felt in his life. "Good night, James," he whispered to nothing.

* * *

Over the next few days, though Remus was far from satisfied with his conversation with Ken Revold—it was still difficult to think of him as anyone else when he himself refused to openly acknowledge it—no more was said on the subject. Ken's presence in Order headquarters was scarce; he seemed to be avoiding anything that might draw attention to himself. Sirius had received a letter from Harry two days after Halloween, reporting that all was well at the school, there hadn't been any incidents with nightmares or visions this term as there had been during the last one, and that he was keeping himself and his friends out of trouble. The only oddity seemed to be the drastic changes in Professor Revold's lesson plans. During the first few months of the term, every lesson had been eventful, insightful, and fun, a lot like Professor Lupin's lessons had been. But that had changed rather suddenly; more often than not, the students were reading their textbooks, copying notes from lectures, or sitting quietly at their desks while their professor stared at the walls.

"Revold's lost his touch it seems," Sirius had commented, sounding quite pleased with the news. Remus had rolled his eyes and walked away—his friend was going to feel like a moron once Ken finally talked to him...

Whatever was on Ken's mind, Remus couldn't help but blame himself. He'd all but forced Ken to talk about something he not only didn't want to talk about, but was probably instructed not to discuss with anybody.

_Why, though?_ Remus asked himself. _Why can't he reveal who he is to the two people he knows would do anything for him? Sirius and I have both spent the past fourteen years wishing things had been different, wishing we had our friend back. And now we do, but it's not really him, is it? _

"_There are things going on that you couldn't possibly understand. There are things I have to do, things that can't be interrupted."_

Of course it was necessary for Ken to remain hidden, especially now that Voldemort had returned. If the Dark Lord was to get word about the reappearance of someone he'd killed personally, he'd never rest until that someone was found. Remus didn't even think Harry would register on Voldemort's target list if the truth was to go public. And who could blame him? The entire wizarding world knew goddamn well what happened in Godric's Hollow on Halloween night, 1981—or at least they _thought_ they knew. James Potter was trying to give his wife and son ample time to get to safety. Voldemort killed him. Lily Potter was trying to save her baby, knowing full well the love of her life had just been killed. Voldemort killed her. Harry Potter was quite possibly the most innocent victim in the last few months of Voldemort's reign. The boy had done nothing more than be born to parents who fought against the most feared Dark Lord of their time.

Remus' mind fell back to the night the Order had retrieved Harry from his relatives' home in Surrey. They'd been ambushed almost immediately during their flight back to London and it had been Ken who led the Death Eaters away from Harry's guard. Everyone had wondered what Ken had done to lead the Death Eaters away from the boy; now, Remus could hazard a guess. He could just see in his mind's eye Ken falling to the very back of the attack, removing his disguise long enough to draw the attention of the Death Eaters. Whether they had believed the person to be Harry Potter or someone else didn't matter—none of them had actually _seen_ Harry that night. Harry had been disillusioned on his broomstick for the entire flight. True, they could have guessed where their target was located, given the broomstick apparently flying in midair. But when a person who looked nearly identical to Harry Potter shouted at them, it would have thrown them off just long enough for them to change direction and chase the new target.

_Still doesn't explain how he got out of there unscathed, though..._ Remus thought broodingly. _Then again, what's to say Ken hadn't taken the upper hand. Given who he is and what he was doing, Dumbledore wasn't going to let him out without having worked out some sort of extra defense for him. For all we know, those Death Eaters were sent back to their master in piles of ash..._

_And Voldemort knew we wouldn't report the attack, even with all the witnesses, because really, why would the Ministry believe us now?_

Suddenly, Remus wished he hadn't discovered the truth. The more he thought about it, the bleaker the outcome became in his mind. Yes, they had Peter. Finally. And with that evidence, coupled with the inevitable interrogation of Peter, not even Fudge could maintain the Sirius Black Mass Murderer line of thinking. But what would they say when James Potter, a man who was supposed to be long dead, walked up to them and told them everything? The Ministry could decide he was completely off his rocker—nothing could bring back the dead after all—and lock him up in Sirius' place at Azkaban.

Then there was the question of _how_ James was back. There were still things he hadn't told Remus, things he wasn't ready to discuss, but it was a fair question. Why did Voldemort's return trigger James'? The only answer that came to Remus' mind was that their disappearances were connected. Voldemort had done something the night he arrived in Godric's Hollow, and James hadn't been dead at all, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"Bloody hell..." Remus moaned, staring at the ceiling of his Number Twelve bedroom. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since Halloween night and it was starting to take its toll. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting that he only had two hours before Molly Weasley would be in the kitchen making breakfast, Remus finally resigned himself to the sleeping draught Sirius kept in his bathroom. Sirius didn't like taking it unless absolutely necessary, because, though he did get some peace from his Azkaban nightmares, the potion had a tendency to make him sleep walk. Last time, Remus had walked into Headquarters after a late-night shift in front of the Department of Mysteries just in time to stop his friend from falling down the stairs. Next morning, Sirius had absolutely no recollection of anything happening, but he'd sworn to Remus he wouldn't take anymore sleeping draught unless he was desperate.

He got out of bed, automatically reaching for his wand and dressing gown before heading out to the hallway, turning towards the bathroom just down the hall. The moment he reached the door, however, he forgot all about his lack of sleep. Something was going on downstairs, something loud. He could just make out hurried heavy footsteps, more than one set, and they were getting closer. Without hesitation, he turned towards the stairs and started to make his way down, just in time to see a hooded, cloaked figure open the front door, sprint out, and slam the door shut behind them. Sirius was only half a second behind the figure, his wand pointed at the door, firing a spell that missed its target by inches. As the Stunner spell hit the door, Sirius' mother's portrait woke from her deep slumber and began shouting insults. Remus quickly rushed down to shut the curtains before meeting his friend in the hallway. Sirius had fallen to his knees, staring in shock at the door where his spell had created a black mark.

"Padfoot?" Remus asked quietly. "What happened?"

Sirius looked up at him, every bit of happiness that had filled him since Peter's capture gone, replaced by the haunted Azkaban expression. "Wormtail's gone," he said tonelessly. "I tried to stop him, but he was too quick."

Remus' eyes glanced between the door and Sirius. "He got out of his cage, you mean?" he asked, having not seen a rat's cage dangling from the fleeing figure's hand. "I thought we'd strengthened all the charms so he couldn't transform..." He trailed off as Sirius began slowly shaking his head. "What?"

"He's still in the cage. Someone took him."

Remus' heart dropped to his feet. "Who?"

"Dunno. I was convinced it was over, Remus, I thought I was going to be free... It was just a dream, though, wasn't it?"

Sirius sounded so thoroughly helpless that all Remus could do was help him up and take him to the kitchen. "We'll figure it out, Sirius," he told his friend mechanically, knowing Sirius didn't believe him anymore than he believed himself.

* * *

Hours later, a man entered the Ministry of Magic via the visitors' entrance. In his left hand, he carried a small black cage containing a rat. The man easily ignored the stares from the Ministry officials along with their whispers and passed the security desk without a glance. Eric the security wizard couldn't even speak up, demanding the man to stop and present identification. He wouldn't have known what to make of the results even if he had. On the man's chest was a badge clipped to his robes, very clearly stating his name and the reason for his visit—he'd tried to get around it, but it hadn't been possible.

Didn't really matter much at this point anyway, did it?

A hushed silence filled the Atrium as the man walked through the parting crowd surrounding the lifts, which he entered without hesitation, pressing the button for his destination. As the grilles closed, the man stared out at the people still staring at him, his expression stating that this was just normal business, nothing at all out of the ordinary.

The man known by most as Ken Revold waited patiently for the lift to reach level one. The grilles slid open once more and he stepped out of the lift, once again causing a commotion as he strode purposefully to the very end of the corridor where the Minister of Magic's offices were located. The Minister's secretary spotted him coming out of the lift and stood up—she was the first person to speak directly to him since his arrival minutes ago—and stated that he couldn't just barge into the Minister's office. The man ignored her the way he'd ignored everyone else that morning, approached the large oak doors with the little golden placard that read _Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic_. His free hand reached out to open the door and he felt his calm façade slip just slightly at the sight of the Minister himself, sitting behind his desk, surrounded by his advisors.

"What is the meaning of this!" Fudge demanded, shooting up from his chair. "Cynthia! I thought I told you..." The man trailed off as he set eyes on the person with enough gall to interrupt his meeting. Every person in the room paled significantly.

Inwardly, the man with the rat grinned. "Minister Fudge," he said smoothly, walking right up to the desk. The people around him stumbled backwards, trying to get as far from him as possible. Shockingly, none of them had drawn their wands yet. "I'm afraid we haven't had the pleasure of meeting. Allow me to introduce myself." He placed the rat's cage on the desk, reaching out his right hand to shake Fudge's. The other man made no movement to take the offered hand; he was wordlessly murmuring at the man before him. The visiting man withdrew his hand, clasping it with his other in front of him. "My name, Minister, is James Potter. And this," he gestured at the rat cage, "is my good friend Peter Pettigrew. I was hoping you and I could have a bit of a chat this morning..."

* * *

**AN:** This a quick enough update for you lot? Once you've recovered from your heart attacks and sent more reviews cursing me for my beloved cliffhangers, please note that this is the second to last chapter of _Not Set In Stone_. Translation: One chapter left. And yes, I will manage to tie up loose ends. To answer the inevitable question of whether there will be a sequel... I wouldn't count on it. I suppose I could, but not in the foreseeable future. In the meantime, please try to remain patient while I get the next (and last) chapter written and posted. And please don't forget to review.

p.s. I probably should have been clearer with my challenge last chapter. Elvendork is indeed from the prequel JKR wrote a few years ago. The challenge is to correctly identify it's use in this story (other than the obvious "it's at the end of the note Remus and Sirius found." Good luck.


	10. Ten

_**Not Set In Stone**_

By Neurotica

_Ten_

_This. isn't. happening..._

For the second time in less than a week, two wizards sat at the table in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place staring at something. Unlike the last time, when there had actually _been something_ to stare at, when the two wizards had so thoroughly gotten their hopes up for something resembling a normal life again, neither man had any inclination towards excitement or happiness. Remus had tried tracing the thief who had walked into Headquarters, nabbed the cage containing Wormtail, and got back out again before either Sirius or Remus could stop him; he continued to hit dead ends. They had a list of suspects, of course; it was the same list of suspects they'd formed the morning they'd found Wormtail in the first place. It was an Order of the Phoenix member. This information, however, did nothing to ease Remus' mind.

With a heavy sigh, the werewolf looked back at his friend. "Tell me again," he whispered.

Sirius looked over at him, trying to glare, but he was completely unable to erase the depressed expression from his eyes. "I already told you five times," he said hoarsely. Remus didn't reply; he just watched his friend until the other wizard rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration. "Fine, but this is the last time." Remus nodded once to show he understood and waited for Sirius to continue.

"I'd come downstairs to get a quick bite to eat," he said in a low tone. "I couldn't sleep and I thought maybe a snack might help. When I was in the pantry, sorting through your chocolate stash—which, for the fifth time, I swear to replenish," Sirius managed a small grin; Remus forced a chuckle, "I heard someone come downstairs as well. Didn't think anything of it, thought it was you, so I kept quiet in the hopes that if you didn't find me raiding your stash, I wouldn't have to listen to you bitching about it for the next week." Sirius' expression hardened. "Wormtail was asleep when I came down, it was the first thing I checked. I heard someone shuffling around, so, thinking it was you, asked if you wanted some of the biscuits Molly had left us. You didn't reply, of course, so I started out of the pantry. I heard Wormtail squeaking and squealing and carrying on. Before I could even comprehend what I was seeing, that bloody bloke was halfway up the stairs, that bloody cage in his bloody hand. He didn't even know I was here, Moony, until I yelled at him to stop. He didn't even turn to look at me, just picked up his pace and sprinted out of the house. And you know the rest..."

Remus nodded, just as he had the last five times Sirius had gone through the story. They'd been so close to the biggest success either of them could have achieved in this war, short of actually defeating Lord Voldemort, of course. But their securities had been breached—the only people who knew of the spells that had been placed over Wormtail's cage to avoid exactly this situation were those who had been present on Halloween night when Sirius and Bill had come up with the charms themselves. Well, it hadn't been for _exactly _this situation; Remus had made a comment earlier in the day to Bill among other Order members about his concerns regarding Sirius being left to his own devices around the cage after a night of drinking. Bill had assured Remus that if Sirius did drunkenly stumble down with the intentions to harm Wormtail, he wouldn't be able to get through the incantations, which were more like a tongue-twister than anything. And even when Remus had pointed out Sirius didn't have to be drunk to want to harm Wormtail, Bill had secretly altered the charms while Sirius had gone to the loo so that if _anybody_ with the intention of harming Wormtail tried to take him or attack him, they wouldn't make it out of the kitchen.

_To which leads us to the only logical conclusion of whoever took Wormtail had no intention of harming him,_ Remus thought to himself. _Surprisingly, that's hardly reassuring..._

"You don't think Snape would have..." Sirius began, still staring at the table.

Remus looked at his friend, knowing even Sirius wasn't blaming Severus Snape for this. "No, I don't," he answered. Sirius nodded and continued his brooding. Just as he was preparing to suggest making them some breakfast, both wizards nearly fell out of their chairs when a pearly white phoenix appeared on the table in front of them and spoke in Dumbledore's voice, "Come to Hogwarts immediately," before fading away again.

The wizards blinked uncomprehendingly at the spot where it had disappeared for a few seconds before Sirius cleared his throat, not quite meeting his friend's eyes. "Guess that's for you, then," he said gruffly.

Remus started to nod, to stand, to assure Sirius he would be back soon to fill him in on everything, but suddenly decided leaving his friend behind yet again wasn't an option. "It's for both of us," he said briskly, clapping Sirius on the back. "So get dressed. Dumbledore's waiting."

Sirius turned and looked at him with wide eyes. "What happened to following the Headmaster's instructions no matter what, Prefect Moony?" he asked disbelievingly.

Remus only grinned as he headed up the stairs. "In case you've forgotten, I was the worse prefect in the history of Hogwarts."

The barking laughter that followed Remus out of the kitchen seemed foreign to his ears, but it was nice to hear it.

* * *

Sirius stepped out of the fireplace into Albus Dumbledore's study just behind Remus, and just in time to receive one of the Headmaster's infamous _I-know-what-you've-done-and-we'll-talk-about-this-later_ looks that Sirius had been receiving since he was twelve-years-old. The first time had been when Dumbledore had caught him and James sneaking into McGonagall's office in the hopes of catching her during a catnap—literally. If they had caught her, their intention had been to place a cat bell around the tabby cat's neck. And if they hadn't caught her, they were equipped with enough catnip to make dinners in the Great Hall interesting for at least a week. As it was, Dumbledore had caught them standing beneath James' Invisibility Cloak outside McGonagall's office while Sirius stuck his arm out to pick the lock on her office, a trick he'd been taught by his Cousin Andromeda's boyfriend Ted over the summer.

It wasn't often that Remus was also included in on one of those looks, but the Headmaster's blue eyes darted between him from where he stood behind his desk. And if he hadn't been so curious about why Dumbledore had sent the patronus, he would have taken a minute or two to tease his old friend about it.

"Have a seat, gentlemen," Dumbledore said softly, gesturing to a pair of chairs in front of his desk. "We must be quick..."

"Sir, Wormtail..." Remus began. He trailed off when Dumbledore waved away his words.

"I already know," said the Headmaster simply.

Sirius discreetly rolled his eyes as he sat. _Of course he does..._

Dumbledore turned away from them towards a cabinet, and began to speak. "There has been an incident this morning at the Ministry of Magic," he told them, shuffling things around in the cabinet. "My assistance is required in order to stop Cornelius Fudge from doing something else he will regret."

"What happened?" Remus asked, sitting up straight.

Dumbledore ignored this. "There are many things the two of you should know, things you would have, in time, been told in a less brusque manner. Unfortunately, circumstances have arisen and I am forced to give you the, as the Muggles say, quick and dirty version of events." The Headmaster turned away from the cabinet holding a stone basin with runes around its rim and brought it to the desk. After digging around in a desk drawer for a few moments, he withdrew three phials filled with silvery, moving liquid strands that Sirius quickly identified as memories. One-by-one, Dumbledore emptied each phial into the pensieve; when he finished, he pushed the basin towards Sirius and Remus, both of whom raised their eyebrows at the Headmaster. "As I said," he said slightly apologetically, "this is not how we wanted you to find out the truth, but again, everything has changed." He straightened up and headed for the fireplace. "I do not hope to be long. You may wait for us if you wish, but if you prefer to return to Headquarters, we will find you."

Exchanging a glance, Remus and Sirius turned to watch Dumbledore step into the fireplace, call his destination—Ministry of Magic, Atrium—and throw a handful of Floo powder at his feet. Moments later, the elderly wizard disappeared in a flash of green flames. "Is it just me," Sirius began in a low voice when the flames died down, "or does he get stranger with every bloody year...?"

Remus snorted a laugh, but didn't comment as he turned back to the pensieve.

"What d'you reckon's in there?" Sirius asked, jerking his head at the desk.

Remus shot him a look. "Memories, perhaps?" he said, his tone laced with amusement.

"I know that, git," Sirius replied, trying to swipe at his friend's head; Remus ducked out of the way before his hand made contact. "I meant _whose_ memories?"

The werewolf shook his head. "No idea," he said quietly. "One way to find out, though..."

"Sure it's safe?"

"I'm sure if it's something Dumbledore wants us to see it's safe..."

Sirius shot his friend the most dubious expression he could muster; Remus ignored him as he stood up to examine the swirling not-quite-gas-not-quite-liquid substance inside the pensieve. "Either way, he all but told us to look into the memories..."

Remus was pale. "Yeah, I guess he did..." He swallowed hard. "You first, then..."

Sirius shot his eyebrows up. "Why me?" he asked indignantly. "You're his bloody first lieutenant!" Remus rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue. Sirius waved him off. "We all know it, stop denying it. Point is, _you_ first."

The werewolf took a very deep breath and let it out shakily. "Together?" he suggested.

Knowing he wasn't going a better compromise than that, Sirius nodded reluctantly and went to stand beside Remus at the pensieve. "On three, then," he whispered, staring into the silver memories. "One." Each wizard placed a hand on the basin's edge. "Two." They took deep breaths and began to lower their heads. "Three." As their noses touched the liquid, each of them felt as though they'd been grasped by the shoulders and pulled into the past.

* * *

Remus sucked in a deep breath as he landed on his feet beside Sirius. He was staring not at the hardwood floor in Dumbledore's office, but beige carpeting in what looked to be a hallway. Both wizards stood up straight, trying to get their bearings; the place looked vaguely familiar, but Remus couldn't quite recognize it. It wasn't until they heard a high-pitched squealing giggle that something triggered his memory, told him where and when he was without a shadow of a doubt.

"Is..." Sirius whispered, staring at the hallway wall as though hoping he could see through it. "Is that _Harry_?"

Remus nodded slowly. "I think so," he whispered back. "Come on."

They followed the hallway into a small, warm sitting room and were immediately met with a scene so familiar that it made Remus' heart twinge.

"James..." Sirius said quietly, his tone full of sorrowful longing. "When is this?"

Remus shook his head slowly, watching as James Potter, looking exactly as they'd remembered him looking before his death, used his wand to blow smoke rings for the giggly fifteen-month-old sitting on the floor. Every so often, Harry would pull himself up on still shaky legs to try and chase the rings before they dissipated. And every time, Harry lost his balance reaching for a ring that was just out of his reach and fell on his diapered bottom, making both himself and James laugh.

Recalling that Sirius had asked a question, Remus looked around the room for a clue to answer. His eyes fell on a row of four carved pumpkins, three of which he'd seen as recently as earlier that week—each pumpkin was carved with the silhouette of an animal. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Just as he was about to point this out to Sirius, who was now leaning against wall due to Lily's entrance, he glanced out the window, suddenly knowing exactly what they were witnessing.

"Voldemort."

"What?" Sirius asked faintly.

"Sirius, this is the night Lily and James die," Remus said urgently, snapping Sirius out of his nostalgic recollections in an instant.

His friend was shaking, pale. "Moony, no," he croaked, shaking his head. "I can't watch this..."

"Don't think we have a choice," Remus replied regretfully—this wasn't exactly something he'd been dying to see either—his eyes darting to the front door just seconds before Voldemort blasted it off the hinges. Both wizards watched in increasing horror as James scooped Harry up, dumped him into Lily's arms, and rushed to the hallway to see what had happened.

James shouted something at Lily, telling her to take Harry and run, that he'd hold off Voldemort. Sirius was mumbling incoherently under his breath. Remus had always imagined something a little more... _involved_ when James had been killed. He'd envisioned a duel between James and the Dark Lord, one that had ended in his friend's heroic death. What he hadn't imagined was Voldemort laughing, then waving his wand, causing James to fall. If he hadn't been so caught up in renewed grief, he would have noticed that the light that had hit James Potter hadn't been green, but blue.

With a cold smirk, Voldemort stepped over James' body and headed up the stairs, and Sirius was the first to recover his senses. "Why are we still here?" he asked quietly, his eyes darting everywhere around the downstairs, avoiding James completely. "He's... he's dead, isn't he? The memory should be over. Why are we still here?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Remus knew he should have had the answer readily available for both Sirius and himself, but he could only shake his head dumbly. "Dunno..."

There was a scream above them followed closely by a flash of green light.

_Lily..._ Remus thought, staring up the staircase.

He waited for the next curse for what felt like hours, knowing exactly what was going to happen. The next green flash was accompanied almost immediately with an explosion, one that, though he knew neither he nor Sirius could be harmed while inside the memory, had him grabbing his best friend's arm and dragging him to the ground until the shaking subsided. When they stood up again, neither of them could avoid staring up at the missing portion of the house. The space where Remus knew Harry's nursery to have been had been obliterated, leaving them staring out at the night sky.

Minutes dragged by as they waited for the memory to change to the next one. Hagrid arrived on the scene and began digging around the wreckage of the house, sniffling loudly as he worked. Finally, his searched paid off: from beneath half a wall, still safely in his crib was Harry Potter, his only visible injury in the form of a cut on his forehead.

Suddenly, they were standing in the front yard that was littered with plaster and rubble from the house. Behind them, they could hear an approaching Muggle vehicle, specifically a shining black motorbike. Its rider demounted before it had come to a complete stop, pausing only to rather mechanically remove his helmet and set the bike on its kickstand. Remus could barely stand to watch the Sirius Black he'd remembered take in the scene before him, the horror and anger and sorrow and guilt he obviously written plainly on his face.

There was a brief argument with Hagrid and Sirius, the latter of whom insisting on taking Harry. Sirius finally relented, all but demanding that Hagrid take the motorbike, to get Harry as far from this place as possible... Hagrid took off down the street, taking to the air at the end of the block, while the Sirius from the memory, along with his present self, and Remus looked on. When Hagrid disappeared, memory-Sirius turned back to the house, apparently debating between moving closer to what was left of the house and leaving. Leaving won out. With a hardened look that Remus was certain would be mirrored on the face of the Sirius Black beside him, memory-Sirius Disapparated.

"Did you go..." Remus tried to ask, losing his nerve halfway through.

"Looking for Peter?" Sirius finished for him in a growl. "Yes."

Remus nodded, turning towards the house. "Bloody hell."

"What?" Sirius asked.

"He's gone." Remus pointed towards at the house where he'd last seen James.

"That can't be, he was just there," Sirius whispered. His brow furrowed as he looked at Remus. "Wasn't there a funeral?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. I was there."

"Open casket?"

Remus' brow furrowed as he met his friend's eyes for the first time in long minutes. "Closed," he replied, his blood running cold.

"Moony!"

Sirius gripped his arm almost painfully as the scene went suddenly black. Remus tried to tell Sirius to loosen his grip, but his voice caught when they were overcome by feeling of falling quite far. Just as suddenly as they left Godric's Hollow, they returned, still standing in the front yard.

"Did something go wrong?" Sirius asked quietly, finally releasing Remus' arm. "Haven't we already done this?"

Shaking his head slightly, Remus looked around, noting immediately that some amount of time had passed, several years in fact, judging by the overgrown plants and moss. "Nothing went wrong," he told Sirius. "This is another memory."

"What are we supposed to be seeing, Remus?" Sirius asked, looking as though at any moment he might lose his tentative grip on reality if things didn't soon start making sense again.

"That." Remus spoke so softly it was a wonder he could even hear his voice, let alone Sirius. Both wizards watched as ball of flashing blue appeared in the still open doorway. When the light faded, James reappeared in exactly the same position he'd been in when Voldemort cursed him.

Confusion and curiosity was bubbling in Remus' veins, forcing him to take several steps forward.

"What the hell..."

Remus glanced back at Sirius, only to find his friend staring at a spot just over James' body. He turned back, finding a silvery mist that resembled the memory Dumbledore had poured into the pensieve was steadily falling towards James' chest. It connected and the man's eyes snapped open as he took such a deep, shuddering breath that his back arched several inches off the ground.

Before either Sirius or Remus could do much more than open their mouths to ask the other what was happening, soft footsteps approached from behind. Dumbledore walked between the two Marauders without so much as a glance. Remus was startled to find how unsurprised he was to find the Headmaster here, where James had apparently come back to life. His feet moved forward automatically, following Dumbledore to where James lay blinking dazedly and confusedly at the sky. No words were spoken, Dumbledore didn't seem surprised to find James here, and Sirius looked as though he was about to collapse. Remus suddenly remembered that while he'd discovered the truth about Ken Revold—about _James Potter—_Sirius was still absolutely clueless.

"It's all right, mate," Remus told him quietly, knowing his friend wasn't hearing a word he was saying. He wasn't even sure which one of them he was trying to convince.

Sirius stared open-mouthed as Dumbledore reached down to the man on the ground, picking him up with an ease not many his age could managed. James was muttering incoherently, occasionally saying something recognizable; unsurprisingly, those words were "Lily" or "Harry."

Dumbledore didn't reply as he pulled James' arm across his shoulder, his other arm grasping the man's waist. And really, Remus wondered, what could he possibly say to a man who'd seemingly woken up after a thirteen year nap? James and Dumbledore Disapparated, and the memory faded.

For a moment, Remus thought they'd been returned to the present time in Dumbledore's office; he then recalled a third phial of memory being poured into the pensieve before Dumbledore had left for the Ministry. They had returned to the Headmaster's study, but not as it currently was. Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, across from James Potter. They seemed to be arguing about something.

"What the hell is the point of being back if I can't see whatever family I've got left?" James demanded loudly. "You tell me my best mates can't know I'm here, that my own _son_ can't know I'm here! But I'm still supposed to fight in yet another war with Lord bloody Voldemort!"

Dumbledore's fingers were steepled beneath his chin. "We have discussed this, James," he said quietly and calmly. It was the exact tone Remus knew grated so deeply on Sirius' nerves lately. "It is not safe until we know more about _how_ you are here."

"You've already figure that out!" James retorted, jumping from his chair in frustration. "Remember? Suspended in time, cursed, waiting for Voldemort to return so he could use me as a bloody soldier against the people I love. He's back, Dumbledore, we know that. And obviously his memory is shit since he seems to have forgotten all about me."

"Never heard anyone curse at Dumbledore like that before," Sirius murmured, his tone bordering on awe.

Remus snorted a laugh.

"I understand your frustrations, James."

"No you bloody well don't!" James shouted. "I've been out of everything for thirteen years! Sirius was in Azkaban, Remus was alone without a friend in the world—"

"That's a bit uncalled for," Remus heard himself say, slightly stung at James' words.

Sirius sniggered slightly.

"And Harry." James began to pace, pulling at his hair. "He's been stuck with those Muggles this whole time. He should be with me, I'm his father, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, James, you are." The Headmaster sat back in his chair, watching as James continued to pace. His blue eyes lit up slightly, twinkling, as a small smile grew on his face. "I may have an idea that can give you what you wish, but it will take discipline..."

James stopped in his tracks, turning towards Dumbledore. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

The scene rippled, blurred, then sharpened again, showing Dumbledore standing directly before the blond-haired man Remus and Sirius had met only a few short months ago. "Tell me again, James," Dumbledore said softly.

The other man's blue eyes rolled in their sockets, huffing impatiently. "I'm Ken Revold," he replied in a voice that decidedly did not belong to James Potter. "I didn't go to Hogwarts, I've been out of the country for ages. Never married, no children..."

They were now standing in the shadows of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, watching as Dumbledore once again argued with James Potter.

"I don't care that you think he's safe there," James' voice hissed. "He shouldn't be there in the first place!"

Remus sucked in a sharp breath, causing Sirius to look at him oddly; which, in and of itself, was odd, considering that they were watching something that shouldn't even be possible. "I know this," he told Sirius, glancing towards the stairs. "I'm up there; I heard Dumbledore arguing with someone on my way to breakfast the day after Harry was attacked by dementors..."

Dumbledore sounded rather tired when he responded, "We have discussed countless times why he is where he is. You've made your opinion known quite well—there are still two or three portraits in my study who refuse to show their faces for fear of something being thrown in their direction—but at present, I cannot allow the situation to change."

James sighed sadly. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, sir," he said so softly that the memory-Remus on the stairs hadn't heard it at all. "I just want my regular life back. Hell, if I have to defend my son from dementors, I at least want him to know it's _me_ doing the defending."

Dumbledore sighed and his next response was much gentler than the previous. "In time, my friend," he assured the other person. "But until then, I hope you will practice the patience I know you possess." James chuckled softly, sadly. "Come, I believe breakfast is awaiting you, and I must return to Hogwarts..."

"I don't get it," Remus said immediately. "That morning, Ken was in the kitchen... sititng right next to you."

"A mirage, if you'll pardon the term," said a soft voice directly behind them. Both wizards started and turned to find Dumbledore standing there, a small, knowing smile on his face. "Those present in the kitchen while James and I were speaking upstairs would be aware of Ken's presence, but would not acknowledge him until James returned. And of course they would not have seen James that morning at all." Dumbledore chuckled a little. "James had refused to have that particular discussion with me in disguise."

"Sir," Sirius said, his tone bordering on desperation now, "what the hell is going on?"

Dumbledore's chuckle was a little more genuine this time. "Come, let us return to the present and all will be explained."

Remus had no recollection of sitting down in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, of Sirius sitting beside him, or of taking the tea Dumbledore had, at some point, made for them. Desperately hoping the Headmaster had been courteous enough to add a shot of firewhiskey, Remus took a deep sip.

_Damn..._ he thought when all he tasted was tea and his usual obscene amount of sugar.

"You will both be pleased to know the incident at the Ministry has been resolved," Dumbledore commented lightly, sipping at his own tea.

"And what, exactly, was the incident?" Remus asked hoarsely and rather warily.

"A man walked into Cornelius Fudge's office this morning claiming to be none other than James Potter. In his hand was a cage that held a rat; the man claimed the name of this rat to be Peter Pettigrew."

"Course it was," Sirius said faintly. "Moony, pinch me."

"Why?"

"Because if one of you doesn't tell me this whole thing is nothing but a dream soon, I think I may actually implode," Sirius replied matter-of-factly.

Remus nodded his understanding and leant over to pinch Sirius' shoulder. Sirius yelped, rubbed at the spot for a moment, and started to retaliate. His fingers froze just an inch from the spot on Remus' arm he'd been prepared to pinch.

"Bloody hell," he said in almost a whimper. "It's not a dream."

"Well," said a new voice, again, somewhere behind the two Marauders, "if it is a dream, it's the most vivid, strangest one I've bloody well ever had."

Remus and Sirius turned around in unison, finding James Potter in the flesh, a familiar grin on his face that his friends often saw when they'd pulled a particularly successful prank.

* * *

Hours later, three Marauders sat in the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, having talked themselves hoarse since leaving Hogwarts. He'd been waiting for this moment since June, trying to imagine the looks on his friends' faces when they finally knew what had happened to him; nothing he'd imagined was quite as amusing as watching Sirius in Dumbledore's office grip the arm of his chair in the hopes of not falling over, then realizing he'd spilt his hot tea all over his lap.

"_You're Revold?" Sirius had asked once he'd cleaned up. "This whole time..."_

_James' grin had widened. "The whole time, Padfoot."_

_Sirius had then closed his eyes in what James had believed to be embarrassment as he'd recalled every conversation he'd had with Ken Revold since their falling out when Harry and his friends returned to Hogwarts. When his eyes opened again, he turned to Remus. "And you. You don't seem surprised by this," he told the werewolf accusingly. "Why aren't you surprised by this?"_

_Remus had sighed heavily, his eyes darting between James and Sirius. "Perhaps because I knew," he replied very reluctantly. _

"_You knew!" Sirius said loudly._

"_Yes, Sirius, I knew," Remus said wearily. "I suspected for some time, but I found out the truth on Halloween night..."_

_Sirius' brow furrowed, turning back to James. "So wait, _you_ took Wormtail?"_

_James nodded._

"_Why?"_

_James raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think?" he replied. "Someone had to figure out a way to get your name cleared, didn't they? I'd hoped someone in the Order would figure out a way so I didn't actually have to go against Dumbledore's orders for me to remain hidden," his eyes shot an apologetic glance at Dumbledore, then one of amused annoyance at Remus, "but you didn't, so I decided to take things into my own hands." His brow furrowed. "Er, again, that is..."_

Sirius' voice broke James out of his thoughts. "Bloody hell," he said, snickering a bit. The other two wizards looked at him questioningly. "Who the hell is going to tell Harry? _What_ are we going to tell Harry?"

"Dumbledore's got a plan," James told him, refilling their shot glasses with firewhiskey. "He's got to do it before the _Prophet_ gets word—they've got some good headlines coming up, I reckon." He held up one finger, "_Man mysteriously returns from dead,"_ a second finger, "_Sirius Black innocent of all charges," _a third, "_Minister Fudge resigns post after mental breakdown; sighting ghosts..._" All three men laughed. James sobered quickly. "So I'll head back to Hogwarts tomorrow morning, break the news to Harry."

He suddenly felt nervous. His son didn't know him, not really. He knew Ken Revold, who, he supposed, was him, but it was different, wasn't it? What if Harry decided he didn't actually need his father? What if he decided Sirius and Remus were better role models for him? And really, who could blame him? Harry had known his father's friends far longer than he'd known his father.

"Oi!" James started when a rolled up piece of foil from one of the chocolate bars Remus had brought for them to eat hit him in the temple. He looked up and found his friends watching him as though they knew exactly what he was thinking. "He's gonna love you, Prongs," Sirius said sincerely, if a little drunkenly. "Who wouldn't?"

Remus chuckled. "I can think of a few people," he said, looking far more gleeful than he ought to. "Wait till Snape finds out..."

Sirius threw his head back and laughed so loudly he set off his mother's portrait above them. Remus carelessly waved his wand at the basement door, simultaneously closing it and casting an Imperturbable Charm over the room, thus silencing the portrait.

The three wizards passed the next several hours in chitchat, discussing what Sirius wanted to do once his name was cleared by the Ministry—Amelia Bones had ensured James that, among other things, she would take care of the deed herself that evening—and whatever else popped into their minds. Sometime after midnight, Sirius had slumped in his chair, having passed out some time ago from alcohol intake. James and Remus weren't fairing much better, but managed to keep their eyes open.

James looked up from where he was staring at the table to find Remus staring at him. "What?" he asked blankly.

"There's still one thing I don't understand," Remus said, slurring his words rather thoroughly.

"Only one?" James retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Remus chuckled. "Only one," he said. "For the moment."

"Fair enough. What is it, then?"

"Your pseudonym was Ken Revold," Remus told him. James fought the urge to call him Captain Obvious, but only just. "Then you signed the note Elvendork. If you didn't want us to know it was you, why sign it at all?"

"Because I was hoping someone _would_ figure out it was me," James replied. Remus grinned. "And it worked, I suppose... I assume you're asking why those names specifically?" Remus nodded. James grinned this time, picking his wand up from the table. He had to concentrate hard in order to achieve his goal: in mid-air, in albeit slightly shaky, uneven handwriting, letters began to appear:

K E N R E V O L D

With a glance to make certain Remus was paying attention, he waved his wand again, making the letters rearrange themselves:

ELVENDORK

Remus laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. "You bloody git!" he managed to choke out.

James grinned proudly.

Sirius was startled awake by the laughter. "Wha's 'appening?" he blurted.

"Nothing, mate," James said, chuckling as he waved his wand again to make the words disappear. He winked at Remus before standing from the table. "Come on, gents, I need some sleep. Tomorrow, I meet my son..."

* * *

Three men crossed the barrier between platform 9 ¾ and the Muggle world to await the arrival of the Hogwarts Express for summer holidays. Over six months had passed since James Potter was legally declared not dead, Sirius Black was declared innocent of every charge the Ministry had ever accused of him, and Peter Pettigrew was sent to Azkaban in his stead. Over six months since James had set his own eyes on his son since the night Voldemort had blasted down the door of his family's Godric's Hollow home.

Harry reaction had rather startled James. He'd been skeptical at first, and understandably so, given everything he'd seen and done in his young life, and it had taken him nearly three days for him to really accept the fact that his father was indeed alive, that he had a family again. James had worried that Harry might prefer his godfather and Remus as his guardians, but it seemed his worry had been baseless. During Christmas holidays during which Harry had returned to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry had never once made James feel as though he hadn't had a place in his life. James wondered if this had anything to do with the person who had taken over his Defense Against the Dark Arts post until the end of the school year. Remus reported that Harry had come to his office on numerous occasions to ask questions he was still too shy to ask his father about, or just to generally chat about what had happened.

James looked to his right where Remus stood, now talking to and apparently holding hands with Nymphadora Tonks. Of everybody, Remus had reacted the best to all this mess. That had been quite the shock to James, especially considering that towards the end of the first war James hadn't been particularly keen with socializing with the werewolf. But Remus, in typical Remus-fashion, had flat out refused to even hear out James on the occasions he'd attempted to apologize for his behavior then. Just as Sirius had nearly cursed James when James had tried apologizing for his having spent twelve years in Azkaban Prison.

The Hogwarts Express pulled around the corner and James smiled widely. There were still things he wished he could change. For one, Lily should have been standing beside him, waving eagerly at the train as they awaited the arrival of their son together. And though the feeling of great loss that overcame him every time he thought about his wife hadn't subsided in the least, James realized how lucky he was to be here at all. And he wasn't about to waste another minute of his life dwelling on what he'd lost.

A wide grin spread across his face as he spotted Harry's head eagerly poking out of one of the train's compartment doors, searching the platform for his father and his godfather. The smile on the boy's face when he found them made James forget about everything—the war, Voldemort. None of it matter so long as he got to see that smile. And there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to continue seeing it until the day he died.

-The End-

* * *

**AN:** Well? Loved it, hated it? Just barely tolerated it? I have to say these last few chapters have been quite fun to write, and though the story didn't end _quite_ the way I'd originally intended, I'm happy with it. How about one last bit of author love? Hit that review button, people!

p.s. Major kudos go to **Astra** for being the first to correctly figure out that Ken Revold is an anagram for Elvendork. Oh, and just as a favor to me, can anyone tell me where in one of my other stories I've used Elvendork? Because (and I may be going prematurely senile, here) I don't have any recollection of ever using it in something I've posted...


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